


The Reconstruction of John Watson

by ChloeWinchester, Johniarty



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Blood and Gore, Daddy Kink, Developing Relationship, Fluff, Food Sex, LOOOOTS of sexual content, Light Bondage, M/M, Marking, Murder, Non Consensual, Oral Sex, Rimming, Sexual Content, Spanking, Torture, Violence, dark!john, talks of abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-05
Updated: 2013-07-09
Packaged: 2017-12-17 17:41:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 12
Words: 74,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/870201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChloeWinchester/pseuds/ChloeWinchester, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Johniarty/pseuds/Johniarty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the showdown at the pool, Jim Moriarty kidnaps John Watson with the intent to transform him into something greater. Neither of them expects their relationship to take the turns it does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Psycho Magnet

**Author's Note:**

> As with I.O.U., this was a roleplay- but instead of it being through paragraph format, it was done in a chatroom, so there may be some problems with flow. I've tried to make up for them, I really have. Any editing flaws are all on me!
> 
> ChloeWinchester wrote for Jim, I wrote for John, and later on we took turns writing for Sherlock.
> 
>  

Jim sneered at the detective pointing a gun at him. "Ciao, Sherlock Holmes..." He said softly, stepping away and disappearing through a door. And then it struck him. Oh, god, why didn't he think of this sooner? He popped back out, lasers pointed everywhere. "Sorry boys! I'm so-o changeable!" He grinned. He stepped quickly to John, ignoring Sherlock's gun and shouts of outrage. He grabbed the doctor by his hair and hauled him up, mouth close to his neck. "I'm taking your pet, Sherlock. And I'm going to make him my own. A party favor for all the headaches you gave me. Now don't try to come get him or I'll snap his neck." He flicked a knife open, pressing it between vertebrae in his spine. "Let's go, Johnny boy," he grinned, backing them out of the pool, grinning at Sherlock the whole way until they disappeared through the double doors.

John refused to cry out as he was yanked by the head, as the cool blade pressed against his skin. He cast one longing look at Sherlock, words on his tongue that he just couldn't say. _I love you. Come find me._ Moriarty forced him him move, backing him out of the pool and into the hall that led to the outside. He was too terrified to speak, glad at least that the Semtex-filled parka was left behind.

Jim shoved John back into the car, putting a knee in the middle of his back and cinching zip ties around his wrists. "There we are, darling." He righted him again. "Take us to the western spot," he said. The car pulled away from the curb and Jim smiled, putting his arm around John's shoulders.

John growled out a warning when Jim draped his arm across him. "Don't touch me."

Jim immediately slapped his face. "Ah, ah, ah. You're going to obey your master like a good boy, now."

John glared at him, cracking his jaw. "I'm no one's pet. Not his, not yours."

Jim grinned. "That's what you think. But you'll see. You'll learn."

John swallowed, still seething, adrenaline flowing through his body. He rotated his wrists to no avail- zip-ties had no give. He wouldn't be getting out until Moriarty cut him out. "Where are you taking me?"

Jim chuckled. "Now that would be telling, wouldn't it?" He smiled, toying with his hair.

John shuddered at the rather intimate contact. He let out a long breath through his nose and closed his eyes, opting for silence. He'll find me. He won't let me rot with this bastard.

"He won't find you," Jim remarked.

"Yes, he will." He had to. He fucking had to. _He's Sherlock Holmes; you couldn't fool him then, you won't fool him now._

Jim cleared his throat. "Johnny, do you know why Sherlock found me?"

"Because he's the best at his job."

Jim snorted. "No. No, Sherlock found me because I was bored and let him. You heard all his talks with me, heard everything I said. I led him to me, little one. Which means he's not going to find you unless I want him to."

John could not believe that. He couldn't. Sherlock would find him, Sherlock would cut him loose and they'd get away. Whenever John was in danger, Sherlock always came. Right? They defended each other, rescued each other, over and over. Not even Moriarty could stop him. Hopefully. _This man is insane._

Jim laughed quietly. "Your loyalty is absolutely adorable."

John glared down at the floor. "You'll end up thinking it's something else entirely, I can assure you."

Jim grabbed his face, forcing him to look at him. "No, Johnny, see, here's what's going to happen. I'm going to strip you of who you are and build you right back up. I'm making you mine. By the time I'm through with you all you'll want is me," he explained, letting him go. "And it'll be so beautiful to watch."

John stared into his black eyes, shivering a little at both his words and his touch. He was grateful when the man let go of his face, grateful to be given his most basic privacy back. They couldn't get out of the car sooner- he felt trapped, beyond the zip-ties. A morbid part of his mind saw the vehicle as a symbolic coffin, carrying him to the burial plot. _Don't lose hope. Sherlock won't let you go so easily. Right?_ John swallowed and forced his mind blank. It was too much to deal with right then.

Jim smiled up at the large house the car rolled up to. The place was secluded, surrounded by fields and nothing else. No one to hear screams or call the police. Perfect. He got out of the car, dragging John with him. "Ah," he sighed. "Home sweet home."

John was, admittedly, impressed. Growing up in a tax bracket below the poverty line, he was used to smaller, run-down homes. This was palatial to him. He stumbled out, pulled along by the bicep, marched beside Moriarty as they walked up to the front door. _Secluded. Too private. Dear god, what is he going to do to me?_

Jim opened the door and watched the driver leave with a smile. "Just you and me now, Johnny boy." He shoved him through the front door, leading him through the living room and into the hall, opening a door that went down to the basement. "And here's where the guest of honor will be staying," he chuckled. He flicked on the light and nudged him forward. "Be good now, don't make me push you down them."

John walked down the stairs, hair standing on end. He remembered one fight with his father, resulting in a tumble down the wooden stairs and two shattered jam jars beneath him. _Broken wrist, sprained ankle, black eye, and he locked me down there for two days before taking me to the hospital._ John did not get on well with basements, and when you added Jim Moriarty to that mix...

Jim shoved him against the far wall once they'd reached the bottom, spinning him around to get at the zip ties. "Now, don't fight me, Johnny," he said softly, flicking his knife open again, cutting them. "Don't make this worse for yourself." He turned him around again, pinning his wrists above his head and fastening them in the shackles looped over a beam above him.

John felt the air go out of him as he collided with the the stone, and the moment the cold metal touched his wrists he pulled against them. Hard. "If you think I'm not going to fight, you don't know me very well, Moriarty."

Jim backhanded him, one hand on his throat. "Oh, I know you are, I just thought I'd warn you." He hit him again to disorient him and shut the manacles around his hands. "Oh, we are going to have so much fun together!" He giggled.

John glared at him, reeling slightly from the blows. "Fuck you."

"Mm, not yet. That comes later." Jim grinned, licking his teeth. "My, my, my, where to start...?" He mused, looking him over. "Ah, I know!" He squealed, delighted. He grabbed for a larger knife resting on a nearby end table. "You're wearing far too many clothes to be any fun."

John shuddered at the thought of submitting to the criminal. _No. God help me, that will not happen._ As the knife glinted in the light, John swallowed. There were a lot of things that could happen with a blade that size. A lot of things could be nicked. A lot of things could be removed.

"Don't worry, I'll be careful." He winked, cutting through his cardigan easily.

John listened to his clothing tear, gritting his teeth against the curses he wanted to throw. _You've done this before and survived. You can make it here, too._ The difference was, of course, that this man knew what he was doing.

Jim threw the rags onto the ground, undoing the buttons on his shirt next, still grinning at him. "You know, I've always been curious about this body of yours."

John snorted. "That's ridiculous. We both know it's not my body you're interested in."

Jim cocked his head, slicing the sleeves to get it off of him. "It isn't?"

"It's Sherlock's."

"That I'm interested in? Please, John. If I wanted Sherlock I'd have him and not you, don't be stupid." Jim sliced through the T-shirt, finally getting at his skin. "Ah, there we are," he growled, eyes glinting. He tugged the shredded fabric open with his hand, throwing the rags away. "Hm, better than I expected." He popped John's dog tags off his neck and put them on the stand.

John watched the metal leave with a nervous look in his eyes. _My tags_. Without them he felt far more bare, far more open beneath Moriarty's black gaze. "Oh, please," he huffed, trying to recover. "'We were made for each other.' 'Hey sexy.' 'I love watching you dance.' Don't pretend to flatter me, I'm not as stupid as people seem to enjoy making me out to be. I'm a doctor, after all."

Jim backhanded him. "Lesson one, I give you a compliment, you say thank you. And I'll reiterate, if I wanted Sherlock, I'd have him."

John stretched his jaw, spitting a bit to blood to the side where his mouth collided with his teeth. "Fine."

"Mn, no, no, no. 'Yes, sir,'" he corrected. "You were a soldier, this concept shouldn't be new."

"I was a captain. Not always, no, but that's what I ended on. I don't take orders from you."

Jim laughed. "Oh, you will, don't worry."

John wished he'd brought his gun. _Could have avoided this whole mess if I went out with my gun. The one bloody day I forget it..._ "Do you honestly think I will? I don't break."

"Everyone breaks, John," he hissed, popping the front of John’s denims open. "Everyone."

John felt his stomach clench as Jim began to cut through his jeans. "I don't know what it is with you people and underestimating me, but I'm getting real tired of it."

Jim ripped the fabric easily, dropping to a knee as he took off his socks and shoes, slipping the jeans off after that. "See, I don't underestimate you, John, not at all," he grinned. "That's why this is going to be so fun." He glanced at his pants with a smirk. "Ah, right. It's Monday, isn't it?"

John blushed and looked away. "I'd ask you how you know about that, but I don't think you'd tell me."

"You think Lestrade's the only one that reads your blog?" He winked.

"I haven't..." _There was one post. One. A few months ago. Sherlock commented about them._ The doctor swallowed. "Oh."

Jim smirked. "There it is," he whispered. He moved closer to him, grabbing the waistband with his hand. He pulled it out, just a bit, and peeked down. "Ooh, yes, this'll work nicely." Rather than cut them off, Jim pulled them down to his ankles, knife still in hand and tossed them aside. He stood and smiled. "Hm, now what shall we start with...?"

John was admittedly grateful the man didn't ruin his favorite pants. _Lovely priorities, Watson_. "What do you mean?"

Jim blinked. "You're joking?"

John repeated himself. "What do you mean, 'what shall we start with'? What the hell are you planning on doing to me?" He risked a glance at the blade, really not liking being naked so close to it.

Jim stepped close to him, pressing against him. "I'm breaking you, John. I'm going to absolutely shatter you. And then I'm going to put you back together. I'm going to make you mine, not Sherlock's, understand?"

John swallowed. "You're going to try, at least."

Jim licked his lips. "John, didn't we just have a talk about underestimating?"

John nodded. "Why yes, we did." He narrowed his eyes. "Shall we begin?"

Jim barked a laugh. "So eager, I like that," he growled. "Let's see, John, you were POW, weren't you?" He asked, turning away from him.

John didn't see the need to lie. "Yeah. Two weeks."

"What did they do to you?"

John closed his eyes. "Heated blades, rusty, filthy. Worried of sepsis. Burns, cuts, beatings. Starved. Dehydrated. Flogged."

"Child's play, then..." Jim smiled. "Well, I don't have anything rusted around, but..." He lifted a blade from inside the fireplace roaring and popping beside them, grinning. "Guess this'll do. Hold still, now." He sliced the doctor's arm.

John did not, to his credit, scream. His face contorted in pain, the smell of melting flesh assaulting his senses. _Nonononononononononononono._ He squeezed his eyes shut, a few tears leaking from the sides. _You can do this, John. It's just a cut._

Jim cut a line down his chest. "Hm...you know, I think I'll write my name," he said thoughtfully, making another slash to hook the J.

John threw his head back as he cried out, pulling on the chains that bound him as Moriarty began to mark him. _Even if I get out of here, it will always be there. Always._ Worse, through the pain, there was something... there, in the back of his mind. _Claimed. He's fucking claiming me._

"Aw, don't worry, I won't make it too big," Jim promised, starting on the I now.

John was breathing shallowly, aware of every movement of the blade. He made pained noises in his throat, aware of the blood dripping down his chest.

Jim finished the M and licked a trail of blood from his skin. He held it on his tongue, moaning softly. "Hm, now what?" He mused, John's blood stained on his teeth. He slapped him, hard. "I think beatings first, that might be nice.

John flinched away from the man's mouth, but it was no use. He watched him move, body utterly still, breathing raggedly as their eyes met. When Moriarty pulled back, apparently relishing the taste of his blood, John couldn't stifle his groan. _No, John. It wasn't-_ He didn't have time to fully develop the thought before the bastard's hand collided with his face, forcing his mouth against his teeth with incredible force. Vision a little blurry, John lifted his head and cracked his neck, eyes narrowed.

Jim grinned. "Oh, did you like that?" He chuckled. He slapped him again, balling his fist and cracking against his jaw. He struck him several times in the ribs and stomach, watching him bleed and bruise. "Answer me," he demanded.

John took the blows with grunts of pain, swallowing thickly when he stopped. "Yes," he said, looking him dead in the eyes. "I enjoyed that." His body ached, and he could already feel the bruises forming. "And it means absolutely nothing."

Jim's brows rose. "It doesn't? It doesn't mean something when nasty Jimmy licks blood off you and you like it? Come now..."

John had to admit he had a point. It could have been anyone though, John. _You're a soldier. A surgeon. It stands to reason that blood doesn't make you squeamish. It makes sense you might enjoy a bit of bloodplay._ He opted to force a smirk on his face in response. "Not. A. Thing."

Jim grabbed his throat and slammed him back against the wall, squeezing his Adam's apple. "I really, really, hate liars, John," he snarled. His hand slipped down to his groin, fingertips teasing his cock. "And I saw your dick twitch when I did it. Now tell the truth."

John lost the wind in his lungs a second time as the stone bit into his flesh. Moriarty had a hold on him, squeezing his throat, and for a second he fought for air. Then, though... Then he drew it down, down his chest, down his hips, and let it brush his half-hard cock. _Automatic response to erotic visual stimulation. Means nothing._ "Fine. It was a little hot."

Jim squeezed, cheek twitching. "I said the truth."

John winced. "Very hot."

"See, was that so hard?" Jim smiled, letting go. He slipped his belt out of his waist. "Flogging?" He cracked it over his skin. "I think so. Be so nice if I had something less bulky. Riding crop maybe," he grinned, winking at him as his struck his legs.

John cried out as the leather snapped against his skin, reminded all too well of his father and his 'punishments'. Whatever arousal he might had felt faded instantly.

"Aw, I'm sorry. This remind you too much of Daddy?" He pretended to pout. He twisted him around, his chest against the wall now and grinned. "Maybe this'll help." He struck out at him, bringing the leather down on his cheeks.

John bit his lip hard enough to break this skin, trying to fight the familiar feelings of shame and worthlessness that accompanied such treatment. He refused to let himself feel like a child, not here, not in front of Moriarty. He whimpered at the pain, flesh stinging where it struck.

Jim kept at it, strokes becoming more violent as he went. He finally stopped, pressing against him, his lips against his ear. "Was Daddy that rough with you?"

John could feel blood from where Moriarty hit him, and the feel of his clothing irritated his raw skin. He hissed in pain, trying to get past it, trying to stay afloat. "Sometimes," he replied quietly.

"Aw, don't worry. My daddy wasn't very nice to me either," Jim cooed, kissing his cheek. "You and I are more alike than you think."

John shivered at the touch of his lips. "I doubt that."

"Mm, knew you'd say that. But I'll bet you'd be surprised." He bit down on his neck, hard, breaking skin and watching blood trickle down John's back. "God, you taste good," he hummed, grinning wickedly. He backed up. "Now where were we?" The belt split across his spine. "Right, that's right..."

John shouted at the pain of those teeth tearing into him, pressing his head into the wall. _Another scar. Another mark I'll never be able to erase._ The leather collided with the thin skin stretched over his bone and he howled, every nerve clustered in that area of his spine overloading his brain with pain signals.

Jim kept at his back, watching the welts rise over his skin, a few bleeding. He finally dropped the belt, letting it clatter to the floor. He spun John around again, grinning. "You want to know a secret, Johnny?"

John took each blow with a sob of pain, hanging like a dead weight against the chains. "What?" His head was down, eyes bloodshot, voice barely above a whisper.

Jim lifted his chin, grinning. "By the time I'm done with you, all you'll want is me. You'll want me to touch you, and kiss you and love you and never even think of Sherlock Holmes again. And it'll be so beautiful to watch."

"I'm going to keep fighting." John didn't sound very sure of himself. "You know that. You know I'm not going to give up."

"John." His voice was soft, even gentle, but his eyes were icy and unforgiving. "What did I tell you about lying?"

John swallowed. "I'm not. I'm not lying." He believed it, after all. He believed he could fight. Maybe not right now, two decades of ignored memories whirling in his head, but after they faded... after they faded he'd be fine. Wouldn't he?

Jim smiled. "Really, John? You think you're going to be able to say no to me?" He chuckled. "You're good, but you're not that good, are you?" He stepped close again, tracing his lips. "You've got some dark things in that pretty head of yours. Nasty things you'd like to do to people. All those lovely blood-soaked sex dreams you wouldn't dare tell Sherly about? Well I already know about them, I want them, in fact. But I'll just have to wear you down until you can admit it to yourself and me."

John trembled at his touch, but he did not shy away. "I admit them to myself all the time, Mr. Moriarty, whether I share them aloud with others or not." He could almost hear Ella's voice in his ear. _Deep down, you're afraid you're still dangerous._

"Hm, so telling Sherlock doesn't scare the shit out of you?" He demanded, grinning at the tremble.

"I wouldn't tell him anything that private. Not because it scares me, because it's private."

Jim leveled their gazes, dropping his hand to thumb his Adam's apple. "Tell me."

"Do you really want to know?" _He's sick, but I don't think he wants to hear what I've got inside my head. No one would._

Jim slapped him. "No fucking shit. Speak."

John hissed in pain, head rocking to the side. He cracked his jaw and brought his neck up, meeting Jim's eyes. "I want to fuck someone with a loaded gun. I want to taste flesh. I want to be covered in blood- someone else's. I want sex and death. I want to kill as I come and feel the life leave my partner. I want to choke. I want to be bound. I want to be drugged. I want to drug someone else and take them, take whatever I want from them. I want to to be forced to get off at knife or gunpoint. I want to flay flesh, I want to break bone, I want to own and be owned. Is that good enough?"

Jim 's grin spread as he spoke. "Ohoh, that's delicious..." he growled.

John averted his eyes, the man's gaze too intense for him to handle.

"Look at me," Jim demanded, voice dark.

John didn't want to. God, he didn't. But he did. He lifted his eyes again, his blue meeting Moriarty's black. _Bruises_ , he thought. _The colors of bruises._

"I'd do all those things to you," he purred. "Every single one."

John felt his skin break into gooseflesh, despite the heat of the place. "Every one?" That seemed a little extreme, given some of the things he'd admitted to.

"You do realize who the fuck you're talking to, don't you?" He growled.

"Yes, I do. Made it impossible not to, haven't you?" John arched a brow and nodded toward his marred chest.

Jim clicked his tongue and shook his head. "No, still too soon." He backed up, going over to the table with his back to him again. "You get to pick what I do to you next."

John swallowed nervously. "Pick? What are my options?"

"Let's see, I could electrocute you, waterboard you, rip out your fingernails, rip out two of your molars or fuck you dry with the end of this broom handle," he said, turning around to watch his face.

John blanched. He did not like any of those. At all. "If I have to choose from those." A nice cuppa and some takeout would be nice. "...Electrocution."

Jim chuckled. "Interesting." He took up the two clamps on the table, putting one on the shackle on his wrist, the other biting on a wet sponge. He flicked the battery on with a smile. "As you wish." He pressed it to his skin.

John screamed as the electricity arced through his body. He contorted against his shackles, tears in his eyes as his muscles took on a life of their own. _Well, you've had better ideas, John._

Jim cackled and watched him squirm. "Who needs Sherlock dancing when I have you?" He pushed it against his arm, giggling like mad.

John sobbed freely as he twisted, torn between the agony he was feeling and the anger at Moriarty enjoying his pain. _I'm not like you. I'm not like you. Fucking hell, I AM NOT LIKE YOU._ His mind screamed as the contact point burned.

"Oh, what are the tears for? You chose this one, it's all on you," he grinned. He pressed it against his hip.

John jerked as fresh pain hit. _He's got you there, John. Should have done the water one._ He screamed again, the sound trailing off into whimpers.

"Where am I putting it next?" Jim grinned, waving the sponge back and forth.

John watched, shaking against the cuffs. "Scar," he said, immediately wishing he hadn't.

Jim smirked. "So creative." He obliged, cheek twitching as John screamed and cried. "Well will you look at you."

John cried out, in pain, yes, but this one was different. This caused other physical effects. He rolled his hips, gasping for breath as the jolts flowed through his sensitive scar.

Jim pulled the sponge away and looked at him with a wary smile. "Ooh, what was that?"

John caught his breath, letting the pain fade a little before answering. "Sensitive."

Jim cocked his head. "Sensitive how?" He goaded.

John licked his lips. "Um. Erogenous."

Jim laughed chewing his lip. "Now that's interesting..." He cooed, stepping closer to him. He traced the flesh with the tip of his finger, watching his face. "So I zap you and it...hurts so good?"

John shivered. "M-most touches."

Jim continued touching him, grinning. "That a fact? I'll bet Sherlock loves that, huh?"

John whimpered softly. "Never even seen it."

Jim smirked and leaned forward, brushing his lips over the puckered flesh. "He's never touched you here?"

John leaned his head back, melting beneath his lips. "No," he panted. "Never touched me anywhere."

Jim grinned. "Remarkable. Dumb motherfucker..." He kissed softly, sucking and biting a little. "You know what's even more remarkable, Johnny?"

John rocked a little, eyes fluttering closed. "Mmm, what?"

"You haven't told Moriarty to stop."

John opened his eyes. Fuck. "...Oh..." _Nope. Noooooooope. Nope. Nu-uh. **Do I like this?** The fuck you do._

Jim grinned and straightened up, still massaging the flesh with his thumb. "Pick again."

John still hated all of the options, but there was only one he could reasonably handle. "W-waterboarding."

Jim chuckled. "Mm, think we can handle that one, eh? Alright," he sighed. He let John fall to the floor, straddling him when he was down. Once his hands were bound he wrapped the remnants of his t-shirt around his face, tying it off. He kicked off from the ground, grabbing his hair and hauling him to the vat of water he'd poured before this encounter, giving John no more than a second to recover before shoving his head under the water.

John could not, as it turned out, handle that one. As the water filled his mouth and lungs, he had one clear thought: _Well fuck. At least I still have my fingernails_. He did not waste his breath by screaming; he simply fought to keep himself from drowning.

"Make noise for me, Johnny, or I'll let the lack of oxygen damage that pretty brain of yours. And then what use will you be?"

John didn't want to. _It's not like anyone praises my brains, you arse. In fact, it's the other way around_. But god help him, he ended up making noise for him. He shouted beneath the water, curses and sounds of fear.

Jim pulled him back up, grinning ear to ear. "More?" He pushed him under again, waiting til the bubbles slowed before he yanked him back up. "Can't hear you, love."

John sucked in air when he had the chance, screaming for Jim, as loud as he could.

Jim smiled. "One more, yeah?" He held him under again, smiling, licking his lips. He counted to ten before pulling him back up. "There we go," he grinned. He tore the shirt unceremoniously from his face, tugging his hair back to look at him. "Now, I may be wrong, but I don't call that handling it."

John struggled to breathe, Moriarty's fist holding his head back. "Y-yeah. N-noticed."

Jim clicked his tongue. "Still so cheeky." He kicked him onto the floor. "Manners are important, John. So very, very important."

John cried out, colliding with the ground. "Why- ah! Why should I be polite? You're _hurting_ me."

Jim leaned down over him. "And it never occurred to you that doing what I ask would help make it stop?"

John furrowed his brow. "...No. No, it didn't."

Jim smiled down at him, petting his cheek. "Well, if you're going to be the good pet I know you are for me, manners are very important."

John closed his eyes briefly. Just do it. Get it over with. Play his game until someone comes for you. When John looked back at Moriarty, he nodded. "Alright, Mr. Moriarty."

Jim chuckled and lifted him by his hair. "Good boy." He slammed him back against the wall, working him back into the shackles. "Lesson number two: No one is coming to find you, John. No one is going to save you from me. So stop hoping. To prove my point, I'm leaving you down here for three days. If someone comes, I'll let them come get you. Let them walk right out of here with you and I'll go to jail without a fuss. Sound fair?"

The doctor felt sick. "Yes, sir."

Jim pressed against him, holding his chin. "A little something to remember me by," he cooed. He kissed him, gently, slowly, leaving the smallest bite to his lower lip in his wake. "Have fun!" He called, trotting up the stairs and leaving him in the dark.

John kissed him back, wondering what he'd be like if he were any bit sane. _Sweet, probably. Nice to be around. If only he weren't a violent, psychotic killer_. When he was alone in the dark he licked his lips and hung his head, content to sit in silence. _Three days, John_. He began to count.


	2. Shatter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim comes down to check on John, and things escalate.

Jim knew the state he'd find the doctor in when he came back down, water and tasteless bits of tortilla chips in his hands. "Well, here we are, seventy-two hours later," he said softly.

John lifted his head, jaw still swollen, body bruised, cuts itching. "Hello, Mr. Moriarty," he said hoarsely. _No one came_.

"Aw, lookit. Poor little thing. I'm sorry no one came for you." His tone was genuine as he set the materials on the table. He touched John’s cheek. "But didn't I tell you no one would come? I did, didn't I?"

"Yes, sir. You did."

"Nasty Sherlock didn't even bother to come look for you." He smoothed the doctor’s hair. "And after you were such a good friend for him. You were going to die for him, weren't you? Strapped to that bomb, holding me. And you killed for him too, and this is how he thanks you." He clicked his tongue, shaking his head. "Poor, sweet, John." Jim grabbed up the water, twisting off the cap. "Here, darling, drink."

John felt more betrayed than he had in his entire life. That a man like Moriarty should offer comfort... Sherlock should have been there for him. But he wasn't. _Jim is. How fucked up is that?_ He licked his dry lips and drank the offered water, slowly so as not to upset his stomach.

Jim set the water down and took a few of the strips in his hand, offering them against his lips. "Why do you think Sherlock forgot you here?"

John ate what was offered, still moving slowly. He took a bite, chewed it, and swallowed before he answered. "You told me he wouldn't find me if you didn't want him to, when you brought me here. In the car." _That's why. He has no idea where I am, there are no clues for him to follow, and... No, he's my best friend. I'm one of his only friends. Surely he misses me. Surely he cares._

Jim smiled a little. "So you were listening." He fed him another piece. "Did you know he hasn't been to Lestrade? Or his big dolt of a brother?"

John swallowed the next bite. "He... hasn't?"

Jim shook his head. "Nope, not a peep from him actually."

"What exactly do you mean? He's just... gone?"

"He's probably up in his mind palace thinking about other things. You know how he gets. I mean, he is married to his work, isn't he?"

John knew exactly how he got. _Other things. Always other things. Never me, never us_. "Yes. He is." _Aren't I the work right now?_

"John, with all the nasty things I've got going on out there, you think he'd waste his time trying to find you?" He gave him more water.

John drank, licking the excess from his lips. "I matter."

Jim cocked his head. "To whom? Him?”

"To someone, I'm sure." _Clinic would miss me. Sarah? Mike? Mrs. Hudson? Anyone?_

"Let's see, Sherlock doesn't need anyone, he's told you so. Mrs. Hudson's attachment was with Sherlock, Lestrade doesn't need you to solve cases, he needs Sherlock, Stamford has other friends and he certainly didn’t need you while you were in Afghanistan. Come now, John, who cares about you?"

John hung his head. "No one."

Jim lifted his chin, smiling a little. "I do."

John blinked. "Thank you."

Jim chuckled and put the water away. "Alright, John," he backed up. "Pick again."

John let his head drop again. "Same options?"

"Save for waterboarding and electrocution, of course."

John shuddered. That left... that left so many other things. Unsavory things. He clenched his hands protectively in their clasps, hiding his fingernails. _Teeth. Fingernails. Broom. Permanent damage, permanent pain._ His eyes began to water just thinking of them. _If you pick the broom he'll tear you, he'll force you to come. **But my fingers. My jaw**. I know, all of them are hell. All of them will ruin you for the rest of your life._ In the end, he couldn't do it. "Broom," he whispered, blinking away a few tears.

Jim grinned. "Alright." He smoothed his hair, smiling. "I have an ultimatum for you, John."

John swallowed and looked up. "You do?"

Jim nodded. "I won't pull off your nails, and I won't pull out your teeth, I won't even fuck you with a broom, if you say I can fuck _you_ instead," he whispered, holding his face.

John licked his lips. _Look this gifthorse in the mouth, John. There might be a trick. **No. No, I can't. I can't handle the others**. _ "You can."

Jim brought his mouth close to his. "Kiss me."

John leaned forward, licking Jim's mouth open and pressing their lips together.

Jim hummed softly, grinning wickedly. He sucked John's tongue into his mouth, biting and drawing blood. He groaned at the taste, scratching old wounds open with blunted nails.

John grunted at the pain, eyes watering, entire mouth on fire while Moriarty opened the scabs on his chest. He did not back down, though. He did not pull away.

Jim groaned. "Mm, there's a good boy.” He kissed down his throat, lips soft and gentle.

John thought that, despite the roughness of the beginning (or maybe because of it), it was a really pleasant kiss. He could taste his blood on Moriarty's tongue, and the noises he made sent heat pooling in his gut. The doctor made a quiet, almost needy noise against the man's lips.

Jim broke away for a moment, lips beside his ear. "John, do you like this?"

John took a breath. "Yes, Mr. Moriarty," he replied quietly. God help him, he did.

"You like the man that's tortured you and tried to kill you kissing you?" He whispered, sucking at his pulse, deepening the touches, sucking deeper and deeper to his skin, raising a bruise.

John shifted his hips, groaning at the feel of his mouth marking his skin. "Yes," he whispered. "I do. Somehow I do."

"Do you know why you like it?" He breathed. "I do."

"Dangerous," John replied. "You're dangerous, and you're gorgeous."

Jim laughed. "Gorgeous, huh?" He pulled back, looking right in his eyes. "I knew you liked dangerous, I know how much you want to bust skulls open and drink up the insides, but you think I'm gorgeous?"

"Yes I do." He looked into those dark eyes. "The shape of your jaw, the curve of your brows, your hair, your mouth, your eyes... I thought so ever since Bart's."

Jim licked his teeth. "You're a funny one, John Watson. And how sick is this?" He hissed, dipping his head to lick blood off his chest. "I make you scream and cry, leave you here for three whole days, come back and threaten to rape you and your dick twitches at the opportunity."

John groaned. "I know. I know it's fucked up."

"And to think, the moment I touch you and you come on your own Sherlock won't want you. All those pretty little fantasies about him never to happen. Oh, how he'll hate you. But I'd never, ever, ever leave you. I'm not that stupid."

"He didn't want me to begin with. And he's already left, hasn't he? You didn't even have to touch me." It hurt to admit aloud.

"Aw, shh," he cooed, petting John’s cheek and his hair. "I know. I know. Such a stupid little git, isn't he? Giving up a pretty thing like you?" He licked up the rest of the fresh blood he'd spilled, looking up at him. "I'm not an idiot."

John whimpered at the feel of his tongue skating over his wounds. "I know you're not."

Jim slid back up his body, tugging the knot of his tie loose. "Don't want to get my suit all dirty, if you don't mind. Dry-clean only," he smirked, shedding the jacket and his shirt, pressing his bare chest against John's sweat-slicked and blood-soaked torso. "Mmn, so warm... Kiss me again."

John relished the man's cool skin against his own flushed and fevered body. He did as he was told, capturing his mouth once more, moaning into his lips.

Jim laughed darkly, unfastening his trousers. "Such a good, good boy, aren't you?" He breathed. "A good pet for me, such a good pet." He lifted John's legs, his attentions rough, hooking the back of his knees over the crooks of his arms. "Ready for me to fuck you, John?"

John was, admittedly, worried. _I warned you, John. He's going to tear you._ That fear, though, was pushed to the back of his mind. "Yes, Mr. Moriarty," he said as he met his eyes. "I'm ready for you to fuck me."

"Don't worry, you'll heal," he whispered, pressing against his entrance. "And it'll only hurt for a minute." Jim pressed into him. "Breathe, breathe, breathe through it, you can do it, you can do it..." He urged. "Come on, captain. My big strong captain, you can do it."

John forced himself to relax as Jim began, taking deep breaths, oddly comforted by his praises. _My first time, with a man, and I'm chained up and bleeding. ...Really, though, is there any other way it could have been?_ His cock twitched in anticipation.

Jim started to move, John's blood dripping to his cock and he groaned. "Mmn, good boy, good boy. It getting better?" He asked, biting at his lips.

John screamed at first, dry, his muscle tearing as it gave way. Slowly, though, the burning pain began to feel... good. His heart was pounding in his chest, warm blood adding a little slickness as Moriarty rocked in and out. "Y-yes," he managed to pant. And god, it was true.

Jim growled low in his ear. "So _tight_ , Johnny. Ever been fucked by a man before? Huh?" He purred, riding into him. "Dirty, scarred, bleeding...you think anyone would find you beautiful like this?"

John let out a low moan, rocking his body against the other man's. "Never. You're the, uhn, the first. No. No one would." He took each thrust, participating more and more, the muscles in his stomach stretching as he moved with the rhythm Moriarty set.

" _I_ think you're beautiful like this," he hissed, grin spreading across his face. "Oh, you like it, you like the way my cock feels, don't you?" He grunted, bucking into him harder.

John threw his head back, gasping as they began to move with more force. "Ah! Y-yes, I do, I love it, I..." He wrapped his hands around the chain for more leverage. He wanted more. He wanted more of this black-eyed monster, more of his body, more of the twisted comfort he offered. Three days of darkness. A little torture. Somehow, John couldn't bring back the fury, the sarcasm of before. All he had was weariness, loneliness, and pain. Alone, so alone, but the sweet words, the reassurances... The man fucked into him, and John fucked right back, and he was willing. Somehow he wanted this, this carnal contact with the man who, not three days earlier, forced him to pick his torture after carving his name into his skin. He leaned up and met those dark eyes, lips parted, his pupils blown wide. "Please," he whined. "More."

Jim knew he had him, almost completely now. He had him, god, did he have him. _Oh, Sherlock, wait until you see._.. He grinned, watching him hold onto the chains clasped around his raw wrists, fucking himself back onto him. He kissed him again, their teeth clacking against each other. He jerked into him harder, grunting and gasping raggedly. "Fuck, so fucking good..."

John moaned and writhed, slowly coming apart. He'd never been so hard in his life, spread open, split apart, utterly at Moriarty's mercy. A thread of clear pre-come dripped onto his stomach as he slammed his hips down. He licked the taste of his captor off his lips, groaning, lashes fluttering. "Oh, fuck, yes. Mr. Moriarty..."

Jim licked John's mouth and sucked another bruise into his neck. "Want me to jerk you off, John?" He hissed, fucking into him harder still. "Want me to make you come, hm?"

"God, yes, please." _No. **Yes**_. He lowered his head, chest heaving, looking at the man through his blonde lashes. "Please, Mr. Moriarty, make me come." Half his mind hated him, but his whole body was grateful for how easily he caved. _Worth it. So fucking worth it. Jesus fuck._

"Good boy, such a good boy for me..." He dropped one of his legs, wrapping his fist around his hardened cock and pumping wildly.

John gasped at the friction, rolling his neck back as pleasure wracked his body. "Oh god!" He wasn't sure how long he'd be able to hold back; God, it'd been months since he'd been with anyone, an anonymous one-nighter with a woman at the pub, and with all the extra casework he hadn't gotten any alone time in entirely too long. _Or is it the blood? Is the pain bringing me off faster than usual? I'm sweet, I'm a good guy, I don't like-_  Oh, but that was a lie. His contorting body, the noises slipping from his throat, suggested- no, proved otherwise. This is what he was. Something dark. Something of pure need. Primal, and raw, and... Submissive. Utterly submissive. _He's burying the captain left in me_. It didn't matter, not right now, not when he was so close to the edge. "Close," he panted. "Oh, fuck, I'm so close."

"Come on my hand, John. Come for me so I can watch you lick it up, come on, now," he moved harder, out of rhythm, breathless and sweating. "You're so fucking beautiful, John. So sexy like this, moaning and whimpering for me. Say my name, John, say it when you come." He ground against his prostate, watching him react with a pleased snarl.

John didn't realize how much he'd enjoy being spoken to so filthily, but god, it pressed so many of the right buttons for him. He let himself go, pushing away the doubt, the sorrow, every emotion lingering at the back of his mind. There was only the cool metal, the heat of Jim Moriarty's body, and the grip of his hand. "I will, I will, I- uhn, fuck, fuck, FUCK!" His eyes started to roll back in his head as the ecstasy grew. "MR. MORIARTY!" He screamed his name as he came, body arching and tensing as his cock pulsed in Jim's hand.

Jim followed him swiftly, giving a low moan, shuddering as he came hard into his body. He rode out the orgasm, still stroking John long after he was overly sensitive, listening to him whimper. "Mm," he hummed, lifting the hand covered in John's come to his mouth. "Get all of it now, there we go..." He smiled. "There's a good boy." He dipped his finger into the dab left on his stomach. "Hm, this is for me," he grinned, taking it into his mouth, suckling lightly. "Sweeter than candy." He pulled out of him, cleaning himself off with the remnants of John's shirt and tucking himself back into his trousers. He started dressing again. "John, who cares about you?"

John licked every drop from Jim's hand, groaning at the taste and the grin on his face. He was hot, god, he really was. _Oh, god, look at him_. Hanging there, sweaty, dripping blood and come and feeling better than he had since before the pool, John memorized every inch of Jim that he could see- until he covered up. "You do," he breathed. "You do."

"And who's going to make it all better?"

John licked his lips. "You are?"

Jim turned and touched his cheek, smiling. "Of course I am. I said I'd make you mine, didn't I?"

John nodded. "Yes. You did."

"Then why on earth wouldn't I make everything better?" His eyes darkened a bit. "Are you _mine_ , John? You going to be as loyal to me as you were to Sherlock?"

John bit his lip. _His name is on your chest. His come is dripping down your leg. He took your virginity, in a sense. And god, you love it. You fucking love this._ "Yes," he said, meeting his gaze. "I'm... I'm yours."

Jim took John's dog tags off the table and draped them back around the doctor's neck. "You ready to get down now?"

John nodded, breathing a sigh of relief when the cool metal touched his skin. "Yes, please."

"Now John," he warned. "I'm trusting you to be good for me. If you misbehave, if I have to remind you who you are and who's going to do what's best for you, you'll end up down here. And next time I won't be so nice."

John swallowed when he drew close. "Okay. I won't misbehave."

Jim smiled. "Good boy." He slid John's pants back up his legs and into place, that wicked look still lingering in his eyes. He undid the shackles, catching him in his arms. "Shh, shh, I know, I know it hurts. Shh..." He waited for John to gain some strength. "Tell me when you can walk, captain."

John was grateful for the catch, entire body going limp after the strain of hanging for days. He rested his head against Jim's shoulder for a good five minutes, just breathing, making a note of his scent. Sex and expensive aftershave, sweat. "I think I can make it now." Being called by his rank was just... nice. It really was. On slightly unsteady legs, he managed to stand.

"There's my strong soldier, come on." He helped him up the stairs, goading him with a string of praises with each step, allowing him to rest against him when he got to the top. "There we go, not so hard, was it?" He soothed.

John struggled a little, body sore from the torture, from the sex, from hanging. Every kind word, every whispered praise, every pet name bolstered him. A quiet part of his mind told him he was being ridiculous, but he ignored it. _Care. Care. Someone cares. I'm not invisible here._ He was grateful for the rest, though. "Not so hard at all." He smiled a little.

"How about a bath, hm? Nice warm bath to get some of the ache out? All the blood off you, huh?" He asked gently, smiling over at the struggling doctor.

John hummed softly. "Yes, that sounds lovely."

"Alright, with me, one step at a time. There's a good boy." Jim smiled, getting him down the hall to the bathroom, easing him to the toilet to sit. "Much better than that cracked, rusted hull you grew up with, hm?" He chuckled, turning on the water and filling the large tub with water.

John sat and watched, sighing wistfully. "Practically a mansion in its own right, that tub. Thank you."

Jim smirked. "And using your manners, too. I think that got you bubble bath, mister," he winked. God, just too perfect... He unscrewed the cap to a bottle on his right, pouring in a steady amount and letting the tub fill the rest of the way. He turned back to John once it was, slipping off his pants again and helping him into the water. "There. I know, I know it stings, it'll pass."

John hissed as the hot water covered his abused skin, but just as he'd said, it faded into comfort. He leaned his head back against the wall, baring his bruised and scabbed throat. God, it felt good.

Jim dipped a rag into the water and started cleaning John's wounds, taking the dirt and blood from his skin as gently as he could muster. "There we are. Give me your arms, dear." He scrubbed away the dead, torn skin and dried blood from the raw flesh, shushing him gently as he did. "I know, I know it hurts. It's okay."

John was honestly surprised by how tender he was being. And he enjoyed it, god, he really did. It was more intimate than anything he'd done in the past year, and with Jim Moriarty no less. His. It was weird, so weird to think that. To think of himself as property. But there he was doing it, and it gave him goosebumps every time it flitted through his mind. He held his arms out for him, as instructed. "Thank you."

Jim had shed his jacket and tie again, sleeves of his button up rolled to his elbows. He washed his chest, over his name and glanced up at him. "I can have that removed," he remarked, scrubbing his neck and wiping his face.

John looked down at the clean cuts for a moment. "That's alright," he said quietly. "I want it."

Jim smirked. "Do you now?"

"Yeah, it's... It's kind of hot."

Jim 's brows rose. "You know, I didn't think it would be this easy," he said, lifting John's leg from the water, washing it away.

"Owning me?"

"Yes," Jim replied, washing the other. "Thought getting you away from Sherlock would be much harder."

John licked his lips and sighed. "Three days in the dark, there's not much else to do but think. And I did. About us, about everything you said."

Jim kept his tone even. "And what did you find out?"

"I fell for him. Hard. I didn't... I couldn't even be open with myself about my sexuality, and yet I loved him. And I wanted to... do things, to him. Something beyond sex." _Carve my name on him. Bite him. Break him. Things you did to me_. "And we never... he never let me close. He didn't want me, no matter how willing to die for him I was. And he never came. He never looked. He never enlisted help. I was nothing to him, and he was everything to me. My fantasies, my world." John looked away, at the wall. "He didn't deserve me."

Jim turned his chin, smile slightly smug. "And what did you decide?"

John met his gaze, eyes strangely dark. "You do."

Jim's smile spread to a wide grin. "Good. Now turn around so I can get your back."

John did as he was told, turning so that Jim could get his back.

"There we are, almost done," he said softly. "Alright, up on your knees."

John obeyed, slipping his legs under his body and rising.

"Alright, this is going to hurt," Jim warned, slipping the rag up the inside of his thigh, wiping the blood where he tore his skin, a steadying hand on his hip. "Almost done, almost done. It's alright."

John squeezed his eyes shut, grunting in pain as he washed his abused skin. He bit his fist, hard, as he fought against crying out.

"It's alright, it's okay, I know it hurts. Don't hurt those pretty hands, now," he advised. Jim wrung the rag out again. "Alright, you can sit and face me again."

John lessened the pressure of his jaw, a small part of him afraid of being beaten again. He settled back in the soapy water and turned back to Jim.

"Shh," he leaned forward, cupping John’s cheek. "No more hurting, I'm just going to help you, okay? Get you all better first, is that alright?"

John nodded. "Of course it is." He leaned into his touch with a small sigh. "I know, I know you're helping."

"There, no worries, darling," he whispered. "Get your hair wet?"

John did just that, leaning back in the water and running his hands through his tangled hair. He came back up and slicked it all back, wiping the water from his face in the process.

Jim licked his lips, eyes dark. "Sherlock's a fucking idiot."

John arched his eyebrow, letting it fall before nodding. "Yeah. He is."

"Come here and kiss me," he demanded.

John parted the water with his body, resting his arms on the edge of the tub. "May we do it my way?"

Jim arched a brow, curious. "Sure."

John reached up and cupped Jim's face, drawing him closer. He traced his lips with his tongue, gently, before connecting their mouths giving him a languid, skillful kiss, far more romantic than anything in the basement.

Jim followed the kiss, humming softly, tangling fingers in his hair with a soft sigh. He broke it with a smile. "Is that how you like it?"

"I like both ways. There's nothing wrong with a little fluff, is there?"

"Every now and then no, I guess not," Jim remarked thoughtfully, thumbing his lip.

John smiled. "Good. If you want me, that's part of the package. I'm... I've got darkness. You know that. You want to bring it out. But I like a bit of sweetness to, and that's not going to change."

"John, I want you. For the rest of my life.”

John arched his eyebrow, a little taken aback. "The... rest of your life?" Jesus, it almost sounded romantic. No, no, there was no almost. _Hey, remember when he beat you into submission, John? **Fuck off**._ "Um, yeah. I'm not going anywhere, after all.”

Jim chuckled, staring at him with those dark, glinting eyes. "Johnny, dear, you wouldn't leave now if you could."

John met his intense gaze. He was right. He was bloody right. "No. No, I wouldn't."

Jim smiled, petting his cheek. "There's my good boy. Alright, you're all clean, let's get you out." He offered his arms. John took them, standing slowly, still sore. Better, though. It felt a little better.

"There we go, there we are, nice and slow, dear. Out we go." Jim carefully helped John step out of the tub, holding him steady for a moment. He smiled, kissing him lightly. "Good boy." He smoothed his hair a moment, wrapping a towel around his waist. He set him down on the top of the toilet again, handing him a comb and an unopened stick of deodorant. "Be right back, need to get the first-aid ready." He stepped out a moment, door wide open as he slipped down the hall.

John combed through his hair, slightly tangled from the shampooing. When he was content enough with the way it looked, he applied the deodorant and rose, moving to inspect himself in the mirror. Amazingly, he didn't need to shave. He combed through his hair again, arranging it the way he liked, trying not to look to his black eye or the way his jaw swelled noticeably. _What are you doing here, John? Why aren't you trying to leave? The door's open._ Instead he stood, taking another long look at himself and sighing. _Better sit back down_. He did just that, waiting.

Jim came back in and smiled at him. He held his face, kissing his swollen jaw and bruised eye. "Hello, handsome," he breathed. "Let's get you fixed up. I'll give you something for the pain, too." He offered his arm, eyes and smile gentle.

John took his arm, feeling a little stronger. And really, no matter how bad it hurt, there was something soothing about the look in his eyes.

Jim urged and goaded him down the hall, stopping to rest the one time he needed it, praising his strength. He guided him into a spare bedroom and led him to the bed. "Alright, where's it hurt the worst?"

John wasn't sure how, exactly, to broach that subject. He looked down at his lap, nervous. "Must I?"

"Oh, sweetheart. Alright, roll over for me.”

John did as he was told, stretching out on his stomach, resting the unwounded part of his face on his arm.

"Okay, dear, just shut your eyes and breathe. Don't think about what's happening, think about something else." He hummed softly, trying to soothe him as he worked, shushing John accordingly as he applied the antiseptic, waiting for him to get numb before he stitched him up. He kept singing in attempt to draw his attention from the pain and keep him from being embarrassed.

John bit into his arm to stifle his noises as Jim sewed him back together. God, it was humiliating, broken and spread open, torn apart and stitched together again. Like Sally. He breathed shallowly, eyes shut but still letting tears slips through his lashes. _It's my fault, my fault, I made myself a target. Just tough it out, you'll heal, you'll be okay. You're a doctor, John. You can do this._

Jim finished and went back up to face him, smoothing his hair, kissing away tears. "I'm sorry." He meant it.

John relinquished the grip on his arm, grateful for the show of tenderness. "It's alright. Thank you, for... fixing it."

"I won't do that again," he assured, rubbing soothing circles on the untarnished skin on his back. "And you're welcome. Where next, love?"

John let his eyes fall closed a moment, focusing on the feel of his hand. "My wrists," he replied. He'd worn them raw over the last three days, pulling against the manacles.

Jim kissed his forehead. "Roll over and sit up for me."

John sat up, slowly, carefully, and crossed his legs beneath him.

Jim sat beside him, gently taking one wrist into his hand, tending to it accordingly. He shook his head, clicking his tongue. "Johnny, you knew they'd hurt like this if you fought them."

John nodded. "I know. Didn't matter, at the time. There was nothing else to do. And, well, I got caught up in the moment the next time I fought with them." He blushed and looked away, remembering the way his muscles flexed as he gripped the chains above him.

Jim winked at him. "Yes, I remember. I was there." He kissed the bandage once it was wrapped, taking his other hand.

John looked up, watching him work with interest. For being a medical professional, he rarely got hurt; at least, not when he wasn't on a case. He hadn't been treated like this since... well, since the bullet. It was nice.

"I'm not making you uncomfortable, am I?" He asked, eyes flicking up to his for a moment.

John shook his head. "No, actually. The opposite."

Jim kissed the other wrist and smiled at him. "That's good. I'm glad. Now, where else?"

John smiled, utterly at ease somehow. "My chest."

Jim nodded, tipping peroxide onto a cotton ball. "Are you sure you don't want me to get rid of that?"

John knew this was his last chance. "If you're wanting to 'keep' me, Mr. Moriarty, then I want it to stay. If you're going to change your mind, though, probably should get rid of it."

Jim kissed him ferociously, hard, deep, but warm. So warm. "I'm keeping you for the rest of our natural lives. If you're going to change your mind about staying with me and think you're going to want to skip back off to Sherlock I should probably get rid of it."

John utterly melted into his lips, kissing back with equal fervor. "It's staying." _Are you fucking crazy? **No. No, I'm not. God help me, I want this.**_

"Alright, darling," Jim, whispered, thumbing his cheek. He dabbed at the cuts squeezing his hand when he hissed or made any other sound of pain. "Shh, shh, almost done, almost done." He put a bandage over the letters, taping it into place. "Alright, dear, where else? Your back?"

John nodded. "Yeah, the... the welts."

Jim kissed him gently. "Lie down, please."

John laid down on his stomach, smiling a little. Just a little; he couldn't seem to make the corner of his mouth stay down. Not when Jim was being so kind. It made him feel good, really good. Like he'd done well.

Jim kissed the back of his neck and gently dabbed at the cuts and welts on his back, putting a light coat of neosporin where needed. "There, there, all done. Anywhere else?"

John shook his head. "No."

im lifted his chin. "I'll get you clothes now, alright?" He said softly, pressing a lingering kiss on his lips and stepped out, leaving the door wide behind him.

John closed his eyes, laying on the soft bed, breathing a sigh of relief. So much better than the basement. So much better than he expected from Jim Moriarty.

Jim came back with John's pants and a set of pajamas. He set them down beside him. "You're not staying in here, you're staying with me," he informed, slipping his pants up his legs.

John lifted his hips, aiding him the best he could. "With you?"

"My room upstairs. You'll be in there with me. I'm not making you stay on bloody sheets." The bottoms went on next, brushing fingers against John's cheek as he picked up the T-shirt. "Unless you'd rather stay here."

John shivered at his touch. "No, I'd... I'd like that, staying with you."

Jim smirked. "Alright," he said once the shirt was over his head. "Let's go." He offered his arm again.

John took his arm and rose, running his free hand through his hair. _I like him when he's nice. I also like him when he's fucking terrifying._

Jim helped him down the hall and up the stairs. He went up the stairs with him, one at a time, helping the whole way. He told him it was alright, swore to him that he'd get there. "There's my soldier, come on, captain, almost there. He got to the bedroom door and smiled, kissing his hair. "There you go."

John really, really liked the way Jim referred to him as his captain, his soldier. _Am I really that starved for attention? ...Yes. Yes, I am_. When they arrived he move to sit on the bed, grateful for the ability to rest. He let out a low groan of approval as he lay back.

Jim smiled down at him. "Tea and food? Something light for your stomach? I think I have some biscuits, as well."

"Oh, god, yes, both of those sound fantastic, thank you."

"I think all I have is black, that alright?"

John nodded. "That's perfect, actually. I prefer it."

"Me too," he nodded. Jim stepped out, getting the kettle going. He collected a few of the biscuits onto a plate, drawing a glass of water and setting it and the cream and the sugar on a tray. When the water was warm enough he poured their cups and went back upstairs with the tray, setting it on the bed beside him. "Go slow, now, okay?"

John grinned. "I will." He added a bit of cream to his tea and stirred it, inhaling deeply before taking a small drink. It was heaven, pure heaven, and he made a noise akin to a moan before setting it back down.

Jim giggled. "Like your tea, eh?" He smiled, sipping his own.

John blushed. "I, um. Yes, I do. I tend to... I like food."

"Cute.”

John took one of the biscuits and ate carefully, dipping it into his tea before each bite. "Thank you.”

Jim smoothed his hair. "You're welcome. I'll be back. I'm going to shower and change, alright?"

John nodded. "I'll try not to make a mess while you're gone."

Jim chuckled and stood. "Don't worry so much," he assured, taking out his clothes and stepping into the adjacent bathroom.

John settled back, sipping his tea slowly and nibbling on the sweet biscuits. God, it was almost normal. _Almost like he didn't sew my- No, John. Don't think about it._ Instead he focused on how nice it was, the man who had seemed singularly attracted to Sherlock Holmes laying a claim on him. _Just a doctor_ , he thought. _Just a normal guy, why'd he pick me of all people? Will he hurt me again? Should I be so calm and accepting about this?_ Cor, but he loved it, though. Even the violent, dry sex had been fucking incredible. Painful as hell- he'd rather be shot again than deal with that level of pain- but amazing.

Jim showered quickly, knowing what John must be thinking about himself right now. God, the complexes he had that Sherlock hadn't helped. Sure, he might have pointed those out to prove his point and get John on his side quicker, but he didn't believe them. He wondered how much convincing it would take to make him believe that.

John set the tray aside and closed his eyes. _He's going to make you feel good about yourself. He's going to build you up and tear you down. You know that, don't you? Men like him, men like Sherlock, they don't see people like you as anything of import. **Shut up!**_

Jim dressed and came back out into the room, smiling at him. "Alright?" He said gently. He sat down beside him, seeing the sadness in his eyes. "John, listen to me," he said steadily. "I'm not going to treat you the way Sherlock did, okay? I'm not teasing, I'm not lying just to keep you content. I mean everything I say to you and about you, understand?"

John looked up at him, eyes a little wet. "Yeah, yeah, alright."

Jim smirked. "Sherlock and I may have a lot in common, but that's not one of them, alright?"

John nodded. "No, no, it's not." I hope.

Jim held his chin, gaze firm. "Tell me what I need to do to convince you."

John licked his lips. It was impossible to look away from those dark eyes- especially when they were so sincere. "Beat it out of me?" he chuckled sadly. "That's how all these self-esteem issues came about in the first place. I guess, if you want to prove you'll treat me better than that, just... do it. Keep doing it."

Jim nodded, a smile spreading over his cheeks. "Trust me, Johnny, you'll own that Three Continents title when I'm through with you."

John couldn't help but blush. "What, um. What do you mean?"

"What do I mean about what?"

"About owning the title. Pretty sure I already do."

"John, when was the last time someone made you feel sexy?"

John sighed. "When I was... twenty-nine?”

Jim frowned. "Really?"

John nodded. "Yeah. Eight years. I'm not really the type people find sexy. More of the casually attractive librarian sort."

Jim licked his lips. "I think you're sexy."

John grinned coyly. "Yeah?"

Jim smiled right back. "Oh yes."

John grazed his teeth across his bottom lip. "I don't suppose you'd be willing to prove it, would you?"

Jim laughed low in his throat. "Prove it how?"

"Oh, I don't know. Beaten, bandaged, sewn, cut, burned... I'm not feeling very sexy. But you... you could change that. You could change a lot about me. Hell, you already have."

Jim gently started kissing John's neck, sucking very lightly. His hands smoothed up and down his sides, working their way inside his shirt to raise goosebumps on his skin. "How would you like me to do that, John?" He hummed against his neck. "So delicious..."

John shivered, leaning into his lips. "You... ah, that's a start..." He licked his lips, finding it hard to concentrate on speaking with Jim's slight scruff scratching against his skin. "Let me touch you? Please?"

Jim hesitated for just a second. It'd been awhile. A very long while. He kept his grin in place, knowing John could see down the V-neck anyway. "Help yourself."

John ran a hand up under his shirt, letting his warm fingertips dance over the muscle of his chest. "You have an incredible body," he whispered.

Jim hummed softly. "Mm, so do you."

"May I take this off?"

Jim smirked, licking the crest of his ear. "Yes you may."

John tugged at the bottom of his shirt, lifting it over his head. "Mmmm...." He let his hands splay over Jim's chest, heat radiating from his palms as he drug them down his torso. He leaned forward, kissing the curve of his neck, wishing he wouldn't need to heal. _A sodding week until I can have him again, at the very least. Worth it, but entirely unfair._

"Such warm hands, Dr. Watson," he whispered, body arching and responding to them. His eyes slid shut and he leaned into his neck with a soft coo.

John growled softly against his skin, moving his hands to cup his lower back. "Have to be," he whispered breathlessly. "Helps when a doctor's hands are warm."

Jim smiled, laughing low. "Mm, I'm sure it helps more than professionally."

John loved it when his voice got low. God, he did. "I can show you just how much it helps, if you like."

"I'd like that very much, if you didn't mind," he whispered, licking his lips.

John slipped his hands down, working at his trousers. He worked the button free and pulled down Jim's zip, sliding his hand inside and cupping him through his boxers.

Jim held John's wrist, not hard so as not to hurt him, but firm to get his point across. "For the time being, don't put your hands in my trousers without my exact permission, alright?" He asked. He smiled a moment later. "I"m not angry. Just...for now."

John drew back quickly. "Sorry," he said, dropping his head.

Jim caught him in a kiss, warm and passionate. "Shh..." He stroked his cheek. "Go ahead, it's alright. Not angry, shh..."

John kissed back, shyly. "Sorry," he repeated, placing his hand on Jim's back. "Um. What if I just. Would you like a massage?"

Jim grinned. "You know, John, you've been awfully good for me," he smiled, voice liquid silver as he pushed him down to the bed again. He slid down his body to his groin, massaging his hips. "And I've had such a craving all day. Would you mind if I...?" He glanced at the seam over his crotch, eyes bright.

John forgot the awkwardness, forgot the fear, forgot everything but how incredibly captivating the man was as he moved lower. His voice, the hunger in his eyes... Oh, it would be so easy to give himself over. _You already have, John_. "Go right ahead," he said quietly.

Jim slowly slid the pajamas down, kissing his hips with soft moans. "Mmn...So soft, dear." He pulled them down further, grinning at his red pants with a low growl in his chest. "Cor, look at you." He mouthed along the outline of his dick, his hand dipping down enough to rub his sac through the cloth.

John watched him move, heart racing. He really did make it sound like John was attractive, christ, he did. The doctor licked his lips, utterly enraptured as those beautiful lips parted and worked over the cotton. It felt incredible, and god, Jim looked good doing it. He couldn't stifle his whimper at the feel or the sight, body responding to even such small stimulations- but they weren't small to him. They were everything.

Jim slid his hand through the hole at the front of his pants, slipping inside and working his cock out. His eyes lit up, heart skipping a little. "Fuck," he groaned, salivating. He stroked a little, watching him harden further before taking him into his mouth with a soft groan.

John met Jim's gaze, his dark eyes black, his cheeks hollowed around his head, and the doctor was convinced he'd never seen anything quite as sexy in his entire life. "Oh god, y-yes."

Jim licked a thick stripe from base to tip, lapping around the ridge. He mouthed down his flesh and took him in his mouth again, swallowing until his nose touched his stomach.

John moved one hand to thread through his own hair, tugging gently as Jim's tongue trailed along his cock. When he disappeared into that warm mouth, he wondered briefly if anything else would ever feel half as good to him. Jim knew what he was doing, and god, if this is what behaving got him, he was entirely prepared to keep doing it. He moaned softly, pulling a little harder as he committed the image to memory. It would occupy his mind for many a shower to come.

Jim moaned when he pulled his hair, the vibrations rattling through John's body. He swallowed around him and pulled back, fucking the tip of his tongue into John's slit, making an occasion of licking the dab of pre-come up as he did. He groaned, pupils wide. "Delectable, darling." He sucked again, hollowing his cheeks and working his tongue along the shaft.

John arched his back, rolling his hips slowly. "Oh my god, you..." He swallowed and tried to focus on not hyperventilating. "You're so fucking gorgeous, J- Mr. Moriarty. I can't... Uhn, feels so good..." He twisted his hand, shivering at the sensation- the slight pain of his scalp, mixed with the pleasure of Jim's tongue, was absolutely perfect.

"Easy, easy, darling. Don't tear your stitches," he warned. "Call me Jim." He dropped a wink and sucked harder, deeper, urging him along.

John forced himself to lie still with a groan. That wink was just... too much. "Jim," he moaned. "J-Jim..."

"Come for me," he goaded. "Come, John, let me taste you, please..."

John couldn't hold back. As Jim's lips closed around him once more, slipping along his shaft, he felt his muscles tense. "Jim, I'm... oh, fuck, JIM!" He pulsed against his tongue, moaning as he came.

Jim swallowed every drop with a deep moan, shivering. "Feel sexy yet?" He grinned, kissing him and carefully tucking him back into his pants and pajamas.

"A little. Jesus, though, not with you around. You just... Mmm." He closed his eyes, remembering the look on Jim's face. "I'm definitely going to behave if that's what I get, fuck..." _This is going to work. Jesus, it's going to work. As long as I play pet. He'd have a hell of a time getting rid of me now, though._

Jim kissed him warmly. "You taste amazing. The way you move, the way you sound, you're so fucking beautiful, John."

John could taste himself on Jim's lips, and that was... that was erotic. And intimate. And he loved it. "Thank you, Jim," he said as he blushed.

Jim kissed him again, and the blush on his cheeks. "You are more than welcome, my darling."

John wrapped his arm around the other man's waist. "So what exactly are you going to have me do?"

Jim kissed his cheek. "I need an assistant."

"An assistant? You should know, I'm an atrocious typer."

Jim shook his head. "Not that kind of assistant, dear."

John arched his brow. "So what sort of things will I be... assisting with?"

"I need an assassin," Jim sighed. "A type of...bodyguard. Of sorts."

"Assassin. Bodyguard." He lowered his voice an octave. "So I'll do the dirty work? Keep those beautiful hands clean?

Jim felt a grin spread across his face. "Yes, yes you will. Unless that's a problem?"

John licked his lips. "Um. No. Maybe at first."

Jim hummed softly. "I'll help," he nodded.

John blushed. "Alright. I just. It might take me a few tries. The cabbie was my first, outside of the battlefield."

Jim grinned. "Johnny, darling, I'm going to show you what you're capable of."

John could not believe how incredibly sensual that sounded, coming from Jim's lips. "I look forward to that."

Jim grinned, kissing him softly. "Good."

John hummed against his lips. "Are we starting tomorrow, or am I going to have time to, um... heal?"

"Oh no, darling, you're going to be rested and well before You have to do anything else, okay? Don't worry."

John nodded. "Phew, that's... that's a relief, thank you."

"I'm not that cruel," he smiled, stroking his cheek. "To people I like, anyway."

John chuckled quietly as he leaned into his touch. "Glad you like me, then."

"Of course I like you. I wouldn't have fought so hard to get you if I didn't like you."

John blushed and smiled, a little sideways grin. "You know, it doesn't really look like you had to fight very hard."

Jim shook his head. "No, I didn't," he chuckled. "And you didn't fight me so hard."

"Surprisingly, no, I didn't. Even through the pain you... you made me feel alive."

"Just needed to push the right buttons, is all. I'm glad you made it as simple as you did, love."

John smiled sadly. "Glad I caved so quickly..." He was a little ashamed of himself. Two week, two weeks in Afghanistan without breaking. A few kind words and deprivation and he bowed before Jim Moriarty- even after the torture. "Gotten soft in my old age."

"John, you listen to me, look at me," Jim whispered, holding his cheek. "You are not weak. Not even a little. You are so very, very strong but so...neglected. You haven't felt strong, you haven't had someone give you the praise you need -and it's alright to need that- in so long that it's made you crave it. Almost desperately, even. And I gave it to you, all of it. I just had to show you how neglectful Sherlock is of you and...and now you understand."

John looked into Jim's dark eyes, letting his words sink in. He thinks you're strong. He wants to care for you. He wants to nurse that strength, to make you the captain you used to be. Let him, John. Let him. He licked his lips and nodded. "Yes. Yes, I understand. I do need it. I do need you."

Jim kissed him slowly, deeply, thumbing his throat. "That's wonderful, darling." He whispered.

John moaned low in his throat, amazed at how quickly he was becoming attached to this man. "It really is."

Jim chuckled. "You should sleep. You need to rest."

John nodded. "Alright. I think I can manage that." He leaned back and closed his eyes, wondering if the dreams would come that night.

Jim smoothed his hair. "I'll be here for those night terrors, alright?" He whispered, lying beside him.

John swallowed and nodded, not in the least bit surprised- it was in his medical files, after all. It didn't take long for John to fall asleep, considering how he simply couldn't in the basement. At first, his dreams were fairly pleasant- he dreamed of dinner with Harry, where she was sober and happy. Lovely, absolutely lovely, until it melted away into darkness. He could feel the chains on his wrists, could hear something breathing in the dark. Bullets flew past him, one slamming into his shoulder as the rest ricocheted off the walls. There was a low laugh, and the sound of soft footsteps. Sherlock, from the shadows, shifting and flickering in front of him as dead and dying soldiers marched behind him. "You see the battlefield," he drawled, that sensual baritone making John's hair stand on end. "And I see a broken man. Always the pet, aren't you, little John?" His slender hand reached forward and cupped John's jaw, lifting his head. "You should have been mine, John. My loyal little blogger, run off with the enemy? I'll kill you, Doctor Watson, and I won't bat an eyelash. I look forward to it, captain." He dug his nails into John's skin and pulled, ripping, tearing his jaw free from his skull as John screamed and writhed in agony.

Jim had dozed lightly when John started to scream. He sat up, immediately putting his lips beside his ear. "John, John, follow my voice. Follow my voice and wake up. It's just a dream, just a dream, just wake up for me. Wake up, shh, shh, wake up. Shh...I'm here, just open your eyes. Follow my voice. Open your eyes. It's okay, it's okay.”

John could hear him, soft and gentle, beckoning him up from the blood-soaked dream. Sherlock faded away into nothingness as he rose, slowly climbing into consciousness. His eyes shot open as he gasped, back arching with the shock of finding himself in a bed, fully intact. "Oh, god, no!" He curled in on himself, panting, sweating.

"Hey, hey! John, shh..." He put his arms around him, kissing his hair. "It's okay. It's alright. You're safe now, it's okay."

John leaned against him, shaking. "Sorry, sorry..."

"Don't be sorry, shh..." He rubbed soothing circles on his back, taking him into his arms and holding him to his chest. "It's okay. It's alright, just rest. Shh...shh...hush. I've got you. Shh..."

John, to his credit, did not cry or sob. He trembled, but under Jim's attentions that too faded. Soon he was left breathing raggedly, but otherwise no worse for wear. "It wasn't... wasn't the normal sort of nightmare."

"You can talk to me about it if you want," he whispered, still holding him, kissing his forehead and his cheeks.

John swallowed. "Sherlock," he whispered. "Sherlock, and my... men I watched die in the field. I was trapped, as they fired around me. They shot me in the shoulder, all over, and then... He said things to me. Awful things. And he started tearing me apart."

Jim squeezed him close without hurting him. "It's okay. It's okay," he nodded. "He can't hurt you. I don't think he'd have the gall anyway."

John nodded. "Never met a man who could rip a jaw off- except the Golem, of course."

Jim stifled a shudder at the thought. He held the back of John's head, bringing his face to his chest. "Precisely. You're going to be alright. It's alright."

"I know, I know I am. It's just... When you're there, it's so real."

Jim shook his head a little. "What do you mean?"

"When you're caught, in the nightmare, it doesn't matter. There's no rational mind. I can feel it, taste it, I experience everything. It feels real."

"I know, darling, I know," Jim breathed. He kissed his cheek. "But it's alright now. Just a dream."

John closed his eyes. "Yeah. Yeah, it's alright. It's fine. It's all fine."

"It's not fine, you were scared," he whispered. "But if you feel safe, then it's alright. Is there anything I can do to help you more?"

John looked up at him. "Jim. Just... hold me. It's embarrassing, I know, but it... Closeness helps."

Jim shook his head. "Don't you ever be embarrassed around me," he demanded. He carded fingers through his hair and held him tight, close. He hummed again, rubbing his back and touching his cheek and his hair.

"It does seem silly, being embarrassed after all you've done to me." He chuckled quietly. "Seen me more vulnerable than anyone has."

"Well, we do need to be open with each other, hm? And what better way to get you to trust me than for me to see you at your most vulnerable and still want you? Without scolding your or humiliating you? Just make it better."

John nodded. "Makes sense." He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Genius plan, that."

"You know I'm not playing you, right? I'm not manipulating you."

"I know. I keep wanting to think you are, but... no, it feels genuine. Somehow, you care."

"Is it really that hard to believe?" He chuckled.

"Actually, yes. But I'm enjoying it, nonetheless. I haven't been treated like this, in... god, ages."

"You silly people thinking bad guys are just bad guys," Jim whispered, kissing his forehead again. "And you should be treated like this every day of your life."

"Nothing's ever black and white, I know that. I never thought you were- well, okay, you killed twelve people last week. I did think you were just... bad. But this is. This is nice. I like it. And I like you."

"Johnny, baby. I'm going to show you that I am so, much, more than that."

John looked up at him. "You're well on your way to doing that."

"Good," he nodded. "I'll show you, then.”

John closed his eyes again and nuzzled against his chest. "I'll try to sleep again."

"I'm here. I'm right here, I'll keep you safe, okay? Shh..."

John nodded. "You've got me," he whispered, before fading into unconsciousness once more.

Jim smiled softly, holding him tight, falling into sleep about an hour after John did just to be careful.

Laying in his arms, the army doctor managed a dreamless sleep, comforted by the warmth and closeness.


	3. Heaven Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Still recovering, John spends a lazy day relaxing with Jim.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAH. This is entirely fluff. WE REGRET NOTHING.
> 
> Any errors are entirely mine, I'm am the world's laziest editor.

Jim woke before John the next morning, watching him sleep a moment.

John felt Jim stir beside him and scooted closer, still dozing lightly. In sleep the lines of his face were smooth; he looked a good five years younger.

Jim gently touched his cheek, brushing fingers against his skin with a soft sigh. He kissed his forehead, just a butterfly soft brush against his skin. He smiled. Rather nice, this.

John smiled at the feel of his lips. "Jim," he said softly.

Jim smiled, surprised. "Well, well, well," he breathed, barely audible. "Looks like I do have you, huh John?"

John slowly began to rouse, though he knew he could have slept for days. His body simply wouldn't let him, though. "Mmm. Morning."

Jim smiled. "Good morning," he beamed, chuckling softly.

John scooted back a bit, stretching his shoulders and neck. "Didn't keep you up, did I?"

Jim shook his head. "Absolutely not," he assured. "You alright? How's the pain?"

"I'm pretty stiff, and... certain placed hurt worse than others. My arms are killing me, probably from supporting my weight for so long."

Jim nodded and sat up, immediately taking one of John's arms in his hands and working the muscles in his fingers.

John groaned as his fingers massaged his arm. "Mmm, you're good at that."

Jim smiled. "I'm good at a lot of things, John."

John licked his lips. "Yeah, you are."

Jim chuckled. He kept rubbing the kinks out of his arm, giving long, languid touches, eyes on his hands.

John didn't even try to stifle the noises coming from his throat as Jim worked. "Absolutely unfair, you are."

Jim looked at him through his lashes. "May not have marble skin and the cheekbones of a Greek God, but I do alright."

"Don't, um." _Pale, pale and angry, eyes burning as he tore_. "We're in the same boat there. And for what it's worth, you're just as infuriatingly attractive as he is." _Smooth recovery, John._

Jim snickered. "If you say so, love." He whispered, kissing the hand he'd finished and moving to the next one.

John felt a pang of sadness in his chest, and he couldn't explain why. He let Jim work on his other arm, quiet and contemplative.

Jim worked the muscles in his other arm, looking at him after a moment. "What's wrong?"

John licked his lips. "I don't... I don't know. I just feel... crushed." _Reminded me of what I'm losing. Reminded me of the game._

Jim instantly had his hand on his cheek, concern and a mild desperation in his eyes. "Why? I...elaborate, please. Let me fix this.”

John remembered his words from the night before. We need to be open with each other. "You spoke of Sherlock, and it... A mixture of sorrow, at the abandonment, and jealousy."

Jim 's face fell a fraction. "Do you...do you miss him?"

John shook his head. "No, I don't. I just feel... betrayed? He was supposed to be my best mate, after all."

Jim nodded. "I am sorry," he said softly. He chewed his lip, calculating a moment. "Here." He took his phone out of his pocket, setting it beside him.

John cocked his head. "What?"

Jim nodded to the phone. "Call him, if you want."

John looked down at it. "I don't... I can't. I don't want to know how quickly he got over my existence."

"And if he's curled in the fetal position screaming at himself in the corner?"

"...Then he wouldn't answer anyway?" It was tempting, though. He leaned up and kissed Jim's jaw, as though he were an anchor. "...Alright. I'll... I'll call him." He dialed the number from memory and waited with bated breath.

Jim nodded, licking his lips, honestly nervous. He kept a hold of his hand, waiting just as warily as he was.

John listened to the dial tone. And listened. And listened. Finally, there was a click. "H-Hello? Sherlock?" The line went dead. He sighed and handed Jim back his phone. "Thought so."

Jim had something of sadness, humanity and vulnerability in his eyes as he looked at him. God, he didn't really think that- "John, I'm so sorry," he said softly.

John shrugged. "Sod him. Come here."

Jim wrapped arms around him, removing the expression from his face.

John pulled him close, pressing a kiss to his neck. "Let's just... I know you like him, but I really don't want to think about him. Alright? is that okay?"

Jim shook his head. "I don't care about that fucker. He's fun to play with, but I don't necessarily like him. And no, we don't have to talk about him anymore." He kept him held to his chest, kissing his hair.

"Thank you," he said quietly. "Yours."

Jim thought about beating Sherlock's face in the next chance he got. _That's new too, isn't it?_ "Absolutely. All mine."

John wondered if Jim'd ever tire of him. "So what's on the agenda for today?"

"More rest for you," he replied, smiling again. "And I think you were in the middle of a massage."

John groaned. "God, yes. I was, in fact."

Jim massaged his arm again, giving a soft half-smile.

John made a noise of approval, letting his eyes fall closed. "Maybe someday you'll trust me enough to let me do this for you."

"What makes you say I don't trust you?"

"You've only really just met me, for one. And you don't like to be touched."

Jim looked up at him. "I have my reasons for that."

"I'm sure you do. Not going to ask, not going to push. I don't want to be greedy, though, not the sort of man I am.”

"It'll take time but...We'll see." Jim smiled. "Roll over so I can get your shoulders."

John was happy to obey, rolling over carefully so as not to pull on his stitches.

Jim kissed the nape of his neck and started rubbing his shoulders, firm and deep but not painful.

John shivered at the feel of his lips. "Mmm..." He felt the tightness leaving his muscles as Jim's hands worked. "That feels incredible.”

Jim smiled. "Good. I'm glad."

John melted beneath him, groaning softly.

Jim grinned, working deeper into his skin. "Those noises you make are precious."

John arched into his touch. "Mmm, I'm glad you like them. I'm... uhn, I'm a pretty noisy bloke."

Jim chewed his lip. "God yes, you are."

John sighed softly, resting his head against his arms. "You're going to spoil me."

"Good," he breathed. "I want you spoiled."

John chuckled. "Spoiled _and_ rotten, hm?"

Jim worked down to his sides, slipping hands inside his shirt and getting the tension out. "Darling, you behave this well and work as efficiently as I know you will and I'll give you whatever you want."

"Whatever I want?”

Jim nodded. "Whatever you want."

John licked his lips. "And if I wanted... some of the things I told you in the basement? Eventually."

Jim growled against his ear. "Absolutely."

John groaned. "Good. God, yes. Very good."

"Oh I know I am, darling," he smiled, kissing behind his ear as he worked. "Getting better?"

John nodded. "Much better."

Jim smiled. "I need to check your bandages and your stitches, love."

"Alright. Stitches first, since I'm already here?"

Jim kissed his neck again. "Okay, dear. Just bear with me a moment." He pulled down the pajamas and his pants, working quickly. He sat back up and righted his clothes. "There, healing just fine," he assured. "By the way, you arse is incredible."

John chuckled. "Even now?"

Jim smiled and nodded. "Even now."

John rolled over, carefully. "Well then. I look forward to you enjoying it again."

"So long as you enjoy it too." Jim winked, licking his lips.

"Mmm, I will. Might need to be a little more gentle, though. So I don't have to wait as long."

Jim kissed him softly. "Next time I'll do it properly. I won't hurt you."

John kissed him back, pupils dilated when they parted. "I'd like the next time to be sweet. After that, though. You can hurt me a little." He winked.

Jim smiled gently. "Be the sweetest love-making you've ever witnessed, darling," he promised, pushing up his shirt. "Here, let's get this off."

John lifted his shirt over his head, grinning. "How sweet are we talking?"

"You'll just have to wait and see. Little unbelievable that I'm saying that, eh?" He said, carefully removing the bandage and replacing it with new ones.

John nodded. "Yeah, it is. I'm looking forward to it."

"God, no one'd ever believe you," he chuckled.

John grinned coyly. "Might need to take some pictures then.”

"Oh, really now?" He grinned, licking his lips. "Might just have to send those to Sherlock, eh? Show him what he was missing."

John blushed. "The captain cowed and utterly submitting. And enjoying it. Yes, maybe we should."

Jim kissed him. "I wouldn't say cowed."

John licked against Jim's lips as he pulled back. "Then what would you say?"

"Took the better offer," he said darkly, smirking.

John snorted. "Yes. Yes I did."

"See? Much better term."

"Mmm, yes, but much less powerful imagery. If... if anything had actually happened, with us, I would be the one in the position of power. With you..." He looked at him through blonde lashes. "I just want you to take me again and again. Didn't expect to find a submissive inch of me, but... Well, here we are."

Jim smirked. "Mm, yes, just have to push those right buttons, my darling."

"And god, you have." He groaned and rocked his hips a little, crossing his thighs in the process. "You've pressed a lot of them, apparently."

Jim's eyes flicked to his groin. He kissed him deeply, letting his warm palm rest on his crotch, kneading softly.

John arched into him with a low moan, losing himself in the warmth of Jim's mouth and the feel of his lips as his hips rose to meet his hand. In over your head, John. Wouldn't want it any other way.

"Fuck, you're beautiful," Jim whispered, licking into his lips. He continued the attention to his dick through his clothes.

John whimpered and whined, undulating carefully against the bed. "Not fair," he whispered, "That you can't fuck me. Still worth it, though. Uhn, still worth it."

"Oh, sweetheart, there'll be plenty of time for that," he smiled, stroking him still.

"Mmmh, I know." John parted his lips, loosing a shuddering moan. The friction wasn't enough, but it was driving him mad. It felt good, so good, and he was unravelling in Jim's hand.

Jim slipped fingers over his sac, smiling gently, grinning. "Mmn, so beautiful. So fucking gorgeous."

John licked his lips, fluttering his lashes at Jim. "Never going to get tired of hearing you say that."

"Good." He kissed John’s neck, sucking at his pulse. "God, I don't want you to. Absolutely precious, you are." He slipped his hand into his waistband, sliding over his lower belly and down to his arousal, just barely brushing his fingertips against his skin.

John moaned loudly. Jim's slight touch was like lightning, curving John's spine and making his eyes snap closed. "Oh, god. You... mmf." He forced his eyes open, watching the heat burning in Jim's gaze with equal lust. "You're beautiful," he whispered, breathing raggedly. "Thought that ever since you slunk into Bart's."

Jim smirked. "Liked that v-neck, huh?" He breathed, tracing around his head.

John shivered and whined. "So tight on you, god, impossible not to love it. Every move you made, I could see every muscle ripple..."

"Mm, makes me wonder how much you've thought about me, Johnny..." He whispered, squeezing the tip lightly.

John gasped, the sound trailing off into a moan. "A lot," he said quietly. "Sherlock pointed things out, after you left. And it was... Impossible, not to think about. And, of course, it all came back when you took me to the pool."

Jim licked his lips. "Mm, Sherlock tell you I was gay, huh?"

John nodded. "Yes, he did. I can't lie... I wanted to bite those pants right off of you."

Jim groaned softly. "Might just let you do that someday."

John grinned. "I really like the idea of snapping the elastic against your waist with my teeth. Breath hot against your skin... Oh, god. I have no idea how you've done this to me, but I like it."

"Very carefully," he chuckled, starting to stroke him lightly. "You now, I didn't miss how much you liked my hands on you on the way to the pool."

John groaned, rocking into his hand. "I was worried you might, at the time. I was terrified, adrenaline pumping, and you... so hot, so dangerous, rigging me to die..."

"Well, you did grab me from behind...”

"God, yes, I did. Hoped the parka'd hide it. I was so ready to take you with me..."

"Shoe's on the other foot, eh?" He whispered, stroking faster, fist holding him more firmly.

John gasped out his name, eyes rolling back. "Y-yes, fuck, I'd probably do anything you asked of me."

Jim laughed low in his throat. "Oh, I know you would, dear. I'm counting on it."

John drug his teeth across his bottom lip, panting at the tone in his voice. "Going to train me well, are you?"

"I'm going to let you reach your full potential, John," he whispered, pumping still.

John leaned back, lifting his body off the bed as Jim stroked him. He was getting close. "Tell me. Oh, please, talk to me."

"I'm going to show you how to kill again, I'm going to show you how fucking beautiful you really are and by the time I'm done with you you'll be the greatest lover I could ever ask for."

John met his gaze, and that was enough to push him over the edge. He gasped Jim's name as he came across his stomach, body tensing as he cock pulsed. He sank to the mattress, breath heavily, covered in a thin sheen of sweat.

Jim grinned wickedly, leaning down to kiss him. "There's a good boy," he whispered.

John met his lips hungrily, reaching up to cup his neck. "You're going to get tired of this, you know," he whispered against his mouth. "I've been told I'm insatiable. And it's been so long..."

Jim chuckled. "I highly doubt I'll be bored with you, John. Ever."

"Oh, not bored. Exhausted, maybe..."

Jim chuckled. "I can handle that.”

John grinned. "Good." He looked around, blushing. "Um. Do you... have a rag, or..."

Jim kissed his forehead and went to the bathroom, coming back with a rag he was wiping his hand off with. "There you are."

John took it gratefully, wiping down his abdomen. "Thanks."

Jim kissed his cheek. "You're very welcome."

John stretched back against the bed. "We're never going to get anything accomplished, you know."

Jim snorted. "We will if I promise mindblowing shagging when you've finished what I asked you."

John grinned. "Fair enough."

Jim got his back neck, checking the swelling in his face but was relatively content with how he was healing. "Alright. Breakfast?"

John nodded. "Oh, god yes. Please."

Jim smiled and kissed his forehead. "I'll be right back with something." He stepped out of the room and went down stairs to the kitchen, taking out eggs and bacon from the fridge.

John closed his eyes and lay still, feeling a mix of nervousness, apprehension, and excitement. This is really happening.

Jim came back with a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon, a smaller portion for his stomach's sake, an apple set for himself. "There you are," he smiled, setting the tray over his lap and taking up his apple.

John smiled back and sat up. "Thank you, Jim.' He nibbled at the bacon slowly, afraid of making himself sick if he ate the meat too quickly.

Jim winked. "You're welcome." He took a bite from his apple.

John took his time, careful not to push his limits. As it was, he couldn't finish all of the eggs.

Jim set the tray on the dresser. "Are you alright? Stomach hurt at all?"

John shook his head. "No, just... full."

Jim relaxed a bit. "Good," he smiled. "We'll get that appetite back up. For now, painkillers," he chuckled, handing him the tablets and a fresh glass of water. "They're just Tylenol. The logo's on the pills."

John checked, more out of force of habit than lack of trust. If Jim had wanted him dead, he knew he would be. He swallowed them with a bit of water, downing the rest of the small glass.

"See? Not going to hurt you. Didn't even give you the capsule ones so you didn't think I opened them," he smiled, squeezing his hand. "I don't want you drugged. I want you happy and healthy."

"It's strange, but... I can tell you do. You've had the means to end me since you picked me up outside Baker street, and though you came close... you haven't."

Jim chuckled. "John, I wasn't trying to end you. I was trying to get you interested. And to take Sherlock's favorite toy and have that toy almost willing to be taken."

"Well, you definitely got me interested. And I'm not regretting you scampering off with me."

Jim giggled. "I'm good like that."

John grinned at him. "Yes. You are."

"Would you like to leave the bedroom and go down to the living room today? I'm sure it's boring sitting here."

"If I were in better condition, I would say no," he said with a wink. "But, yeah, that'd be nice."

Jim smiled again. "I'll get you some clean clothes. I need to get dressed myself," he chortled. He turned to his dresser, rifling out a white T-shirt and a pair of more presentable black pants. "You tell anyone that I have yoga pants and I'll deny it," he warned, setting them down on the bed. "But they're the most comfortable thing I own." He went to the bathroom with his own clothes, well aware of the green pants he'd tucked in with the clothes he'd set out for him.

John chuckled. "Your embarrassing secret is safe with me." When Jim was in the bathroom he began to strip, folding his dirty clothes and making a note to look for a hamper. He snorted at Jim's colourful choice of pants, well aware of the way his pupils widened as he got dressed. John fussed with his hair in front of the mirror before giving up entirely, leaning against the dresser while he waited.

Jim came back out minutes later dressed and shaved in a pale gray button up and jeans. He grinned at John. "Aren't you gorgeous?" He breathed, gently catching his waist and pulling him close. "You're welcome to have at anything in the bathroom. Already have a toothbrush set out for you on the right side of the sink. There's razors in the medicine cabinet and that blue comb you used yesterday is yours, okay? Just make yourself at home."

John shivered a little at his touch. "Thank you." He licked his lips. "Ten minutes to make myself presentable, alright?"

Jim kissed his cheek and let him go. "Take all the time you need."

John walked into the bathroom, tackling his hair first. He wet the comb and flattened the unruly blonde strands, finally getting it right before brushing his teeth and shaving. He went a few minutes over time, but it was worth it- apart from his facial bruising, the scab on his lip, and the rather ridiculous tightness of his shirt (he was broader than Jim by a few inches), he looked fairly good. He returned to the bedroom, a little nervous.15:23

Jim grinned at him again, dark eyes rather...hungry. "How anyone keeps their hands off of you is beyond me."

"It's the jumpers," he said with a grin. "Make me too dowdy for people to care."

Jim shook his head, sliding to the other side of the bed to get closer to him. "Makes it look like you're hiding something...sexy, underneath."

John snorted. "Apparently I am." He moved to meet him, feeling absolutely naked under his dark gaze. "Are we moving downstairs, Mr. Moriarty?"

Jim licked his lips, blinking out of his daze. "Downstairs. Right." He shook his head a little and stood, offering his arms because the stairs would be a challenge.

John took Jim's arm, gladly, grinning to himself. The stairs were trouble, but he managed without needing a rest. They had to take them slow, though, lest he tear his stitches.

Jim got to the bottom and scooped John in his arms, refusing to force him to walk any further, looking at the sheen of sweat on his forehead. He carried him through the large doorway and set him on the couch with a smile, pushing the remote into his hands.

John was amazed by Jim's strength- amazed, and honestly a little turned on. He leaned back against the arm of the couch and crossed his legs beneath him. "Joining me?"

Jim kissed the top of his head. "In a bit. I have some business to take care of," he nodded, taking out his phone and stepping down the hall. "Call me if you need anything!" He yelled over his shoulder, slipping into his study with the phone to his ear.

John watched him go, seeing the door close before he turned to the telly. He'd never seen one so large, or with so many choices. With one quick glance to make sure Jim was still in his study, he opened the search menu. Ah, he'd missed the intro, but it was alright with him. Boring anyway. Chiller was playing Silence of the Lambs, and god, he loved Anthony Hopkins.

Jim started screaming in Gaelic over the phone about twenty minutes later, something crashing in the room before he came back out, stepping briskly down the hall, eyes smouldering and glued on John.

John winced at the sound, pulled out of his reverie about those damnable blue eyes as fear took over. He looked up as Jim walked out, shoulders hunched defensively, trying very hard to ignore the movie in case of danger. "Everything alright?" His voice was quiet.

Jim came around the side of the couch and kissed him deeply, a little rough but more desperate than anything. He shoved their tongues together, holding John's face and slowly fisting his fingers in his hair, tugging a little. He broke away when there was no air left in John's lungs, taking a deep breath. "Is now. Ten more minutes," he smiled, smoothing his hair and tapping his nose before disappearing again.

John groaned when he left, painfully hard, his taste lingering on his lips. He turned back to the movie, Hannibal's wolfish grin not making it any easier on him.

Jim spent another ten minutes talking in seven different languages before he emerged again, hopping over the back of the couch to sit beside him. "Sorry about that."

"S'fine. Work can be frustrating."

Jim chuckled. "So can assassinating an emperor."

John arched his brow. "Well I would hope so, otherwise everyone'd be doing it."

Jim laughed. "That is very true, I suppose."

John moved a little closer to him, throat catching a little as Hannibal spoke from the blackness of his cell. It wasn't his favorite part of the movie, but christ, he loved it when he got vulgar. A murderer beside him, a cannibal in front of him. When did my life become so interesting?

Jim smirked a little. "You've got a thing for psychopaths, don't you?" He growled, lips beside his ear.

John shivered. "Possibly. My fixation on the character of Hannibal Lecter might suggest that. And then, of course, there was that time you fucked me raw after a lengthy torture and I begged for it. Might sense a pattern in the things I like."

Jim smiled. "Mm, but god, you did want it, didn't you?"

John licked his lips and let out a ragged breath. "Hurt like hell. Best sex of my life."

"Next time it won't hurt, but I can guarantee it'll be better."

John let his eyes fall closed. "I believe we agreed next time would be sweet. I want that, but I'm... feeling pretty filthy today, I've got to say."

Jim nodded. "Exactly," he smiled, nibbling at his jaw. "Filthy, hm?" He slid his hands inside his shirt, kissing him deeply. "You could always suck me off."

John licked at Jim's lips as they parted. "Please," he said, cheeks slightly flushed. "Let me."

Jim leaned back against the arm of the couch, stretched in front of him. "Ready and waiting, love."

John moved forward, undoing his button and zip, slipping his slacks down around his thighs. He pulled Jim free from his pants and licked his lips, sliding to the floor to rest between Jim's knees. Carefully, eager to test the waters, he began licking around the head of Jim's cock, his eyes never leaving Jim's.

Jim's eyes fluttered shut and he moaned. "Mmn, there you are, John. Show me that magnificent tongue of yours."

John licked a stripe across Jim's head, tonguing at his slit, parting him gently (and again and again) before trailing down to his shaft, down to his base and back, flattening his tongue before drawing it up and rolling it against his skin.

Jim moaned in spurts, thrusting lightly while John fucked his slit. He growled, arching off the couch a bit. "Fuck, you're good at this."

John grinned and wrapped his lips around Jim's head, whirling his tongue against the curves muscle, hollowing his cheeks as he sucked.

Jim blew air between his lips, eyes shut again. "Fuck, oh, so good. So good, John, yes..."

John slipped lower, taking as much of Jim as he could. He, unfortunately, still had gag reflexes. He moaned around his length, eyes open as he began to bob his head.

Jim moaned back, shivering. "F-fuck, you feel so good!" He growled.

John began to pick up up the pace, using one hand to find one of Jim's and place it against his head. He took more of him, fighting through his throat's reflex to close, burying him to the base in the warm wetness of his mouth.

Jim tangled fingers in his hair and tugged, pushing him down further, watching the tears prick the corners of his eyes. "Little more, little more, fuck!"

John sucked in a breath as Jim forced himself deeper, gagging but refusing to stop. He wanted to do this, make it good for Jim, but he also... he also wanted him to use him, to fuck into his throat, to take control away from him. Both desires fought for dominance as he worked his tongue and lips.

Jim grinned, licking his lips. His eyes were half-lidded and hazed, understanding what John wanted. "You want me to fuck your throat, John? Want me to make you gag on my cock, is that what you want?"

John nodded up at him, eyes dark and eager.

Jim held his hair a little tighter, holding him still. He began to thrust into him, arching off the couch and using it for leverage.

John relished the feel of Jim sliding into him, giving control over as he became a mouth, nothing more, for Jim to get off in. God, he loved it, being used like that, able to give back after everything Jim had done to please him since bringing him upstairs.

Jim fucked harder. "U-use your tongue," he demanded, shuddering. "Come on, John, please..."

John blinked away a few tears and began to lick, pressing his tongue against Jim's cock. He decided to try a trick he learned from an ex, writing the cursive alphabet against his skin with the very tip.

Jim practically whimpered, eyes rolling shut as he moved. "Perfect, so fucking perfect, love. FUCK!" He moaned, goosebumps rising on his skin. He fucked into him deeper, gasping.

John wondered if Jim could read messages. C-O-M-E-F-O-R-M-E, he licked, moaning around him until his throat was too full to make a sound.

"Oh, you cheeky-" He broke off with a whimper, practically screaming John's name as it tore from his throat and shot down his throat. "Fuck, oh fuck, John. Oh..."

John sucked down every drop, swallowing, coming up and licking every inch of him clean before grinning and settling with his head against his thigh. "Good?"

Jim swallowed hard, tucking himself back in, righting his clothes and smiling down at him. "Get up here."

John crawled up his body, shoulders rolling as he rested his forehead against Jim's chest.

Jim lifted his chin and kissed his swollen lips, tasting himself and growling. "You're perfect."

John moaned, licking against the curve of Jim's bottom lip. "I try."

"You certainly succeed, my darling," he smiled, holding him.

John buried his face in the curve of Jim's neck, shifting his hips against his thigh. The effect it had had on him was obvious, but John was willing to let it go. He placed a chaste kiss against Jim's skin and closed his eyes.

Jim shifted so his thigh was between John's legs. "Move," he whispered, holding his head to keep him in place. "Move, John."

John obeyed, letting out a hot breath as he began to rock his hips. He growled low in his throat, biting softly at Jim's, held in place as he rutted against his thigh.

"Careful," he whispered. "Be careful, don't tear again." He arched his neck into his touch.

John nodded, going slowly, knowing it wouldn't be enough, He held Jim's leg tight between his thighs, protecting his stitches as he moved back and forth. His tongue danced across Jim's skin, memorizing the feel of him, the taste, the scent of his sweat and his freshly-applied aftershave. "Talk to me, please," he whispered.

Jim smiled, eyes still closed. "Going to come in my pants, John? Right after swallowing up all mine, huh? Bet you've thought about this, bet you wanted to be this close to my neck since you tried to save little Sherly's life, haven't you? You missed my skin, you missed how I smelled, you missed everything, didn't you?"

"Wanted to bite you," John whispered back. "You saw me as a pet, a loyal guard dog. That's what we do, isn't it? Bite? So close to me, faces together, and when you grinned at me, like you were impressed... I'm going to leave them filthy, Mr. Moriarty, like I've wanted to ever since I saw you in them. And you're going to feel me do it."

"Oh, I was impressed, always so impressed with you, John," he snarled, pulling at his hair. "Rock harder."

John gasped and did just that, the pain urging him forward. He moved more insistently, shuddering and moaning as he drew closer.

"Good boy, good boy," he purred, smoothing his hair and soothing his scalp. "Keep going, baby, almost there."

John groaned, unraveling against him, whispering Jim's name as his vision blurred. He leaned up, catching Jim in a deep kiss as the muscles of his lower body tensed. Once, twice, and then he was coming, breaking off with a ragged gasp of "Jim, oh, fuck!"

Jim smiled softly, holding him against him as he caught his breath. "Aren't you beautiful?"

John felt his jaw tremble against the hollow of Jim's throat. "Damn right I am," he chuckled, huffing out a shaking breath.

Jim grinned. "Well look at that."

"What?"

"I just told you you were beautiful. And you agreed with me."

John furrowed his brow a little. "Oh. Well. When you said it like that, it's... impossible to ignore.”

Jim kissed him. "You're making more progress than you thought you could."

"And surprisingly fast," he murmured, settling back down against his chest. "Um, sorry, by the way."

Jim frowned. "For what?"

"Making a mess of your clothes."

Jim kissed his hair. "I told you to."

John grinned. "Yeah, you did." He thought of the green pants clinging to him, drying, cooling. "Mmm. Absolutely fantastic."

Jim smiled, kissing his cheek. "What do you want to do now?"

John snorted. "I have absolutely no ideas."

"Why don't you just stay here with me, then?"

John nodded. "I would enjoy that... if you have no other work to tend to."

Jim shook his head, petting his hair. "Free the rest of the day," he said softly.

John made a pleased noise. "Good. I've got you all to myself then."

“You'll find that happens often, dear," he whispered.

John smiled. "Good. I'm..." No secrets. "I like that you're around so often."

"Then I'll be around for as long as you want me," Jim breathed, kissing him softly.

John met his lips with lay enthusiasm. It was true; four days ago John had been hanging in the dark, screaming himself hoarse, terrified and pissed off, and now... So soon, and he was taken in by Jim, nicer to him than any of his girlfriends, not put off by his neediness, of the... the things he had admitted. And he wanted to be around him. "It's too soon to tell, but you'll probably be unable to get rid of me."

Jim shrugged. "If you try to leave I'll just haul your cute butt back here. And obviously I don't want to get rid of you. If I did I would have by now."

John snorted. "...I don't think I'm going to try," he said quietly. "There are some lines I won't cross, and I just... ask that you never make me."

Jim nodded. "Tell me what they are."

"I won't hurt children. Ever. I don't care if they just killed an entire homeless shelter, I can't hurt kids. Not after... just, never. Never. And... not animals, either."

Jim shook his head. "I've no business with animals and I don't hurt children either," he said softly. "That kid on the phone that Sherlock talked to wasn't actually hooked up to anything. I just told him he couldn't leave unless he did what I asked."

John looked up at him with naked respect. "I'm glad to hear that."

“Just don't tell Sherlock that.

John kissed Jim's jaw. "Won't be telling him anything anymore, will I?"

Jim shrugged. "Might run into him."

John sighed. "If that happens, we'll cross that bridge. But I really, just... Nothing about him. Please."

Jim nodded. "I'm sorry."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome." He rocked him a little, kissing his forehead.

John hummed quietly and closed his eyes, settling down against him. "If I'm stronger, can we start tomorrow? I've never been one to just... lay down."

Jim nodded, grinning. "Absolutely we can. Got some business out of town anyway."

"Oh? How far out of town?"

"Just in Cardiff."

"Oh, not that far." He chuckled.

Jim shook his head. "No, dear," he smiled, "not too far."

John closed his eyes. "I'm surprised by how much I enjoy the pet names."

Jim chuckled softly. "Good. I say them often."

"I noticed." He thought of the phone calls and shoved them away. John, Jim had picked John in the end.

Jim turned his chin. "What?"

"I noticed you're affectionate."

Jim shook his head. "I mean what's that face? What's wrong?"

John just couldn't lie. "I'm a jealous man.”

Jim frowned. "Who are you jealous of?"

John looked up at him. "Do you really want me to answer that?"

"Yes, that's why I asked."

John sighed and rested his head against him once more. "Sherlock. He gets to have the brains, the looks, the ruthlessness. He gets to have everything. I've worked hard, for my rank, for my degree, and I can barely keep a job. And everything gets handed to him on a silver platter... even you."

"John, where are you right now?" He asked softly.

"With you."

"And where is he?"

"God only knows."

"And could I have taken either one of you, couldn't I?"

John huffed out a breath. "Technically, I was closer."

"Couldn't I?" He pressed.

"...Yes."

"And who did I want?"

"Me?”

Jim smiled. "Well, who's here with me?"

John smiled back, giving a small sigh. "I am."

"Do you know why I want you?"

"Pet? Allergic to dogs?"

Jim 's gaze darkened. "Do not talk about yourself like that."

John lowered his head, realizing he'd pushed too far. "Yes."

Jim kissed him. "I chose you because you're smart. You're fiercely loyal and so very handsome. You can handle a firearm and you're one hell of a kisser. You're absolutely amazing, John Watson. Sherlock's stupid."

John looked up at him, Jim's taste lingering on his lips. "Thank you. Thank you, Jim."

"You're welcome, captain."

John laid his head back down, holding Jim a little tighter. Like an anchor, like a lifeline.

"Shh...I'm here. I'm here, it's okay." He nodded, kissing his forehead.

John swallowed. "Believe me, I know it is. I'll be better tomorrow, when I can actually... do something."

Jim smiled a little. "You know being stationary doesn't affect your self-worth, right?"

John snorted. "It's always felt like it has. That month, after I got back... it was the worst. I couldn't find a job, no one would hire a 'cripple', no matter how good his bloody records were."

Jim shook his head, sneering. "Fuckers," he spat. He kissed him gently. "Fuck them. Morons, the lot of them."

John nodded his agreement. "Well, the joke's on them, innit? Limp's gone, and while I'm a little worse for wear, got the only job I'll ever need."

Jim smiled a little, kissing his cheek. "Pays very handsomely, too," he winked.

John chuckled. "I believe I was promised complimentary sex after every job."

Jim kissed him again. "That and I'm obviously paying you."

John grinned. "I figured you would."

Jim chuckled, playing with his hair. "Did you, now?"

"Well, surely you don't want me wasting all your money. Although god knows what I'd do with my own. Fix your tea shortage, for starters."

Jim chuckled. "Buy hordes of jumpers is what I figured," he smiled.

John snorted. "That too. Although I'm fond of these shirts now... More pants. More things for the bedroom.”

Jim cocked a brow at him. "What kind of things?"

John blushed. "Um. I have. Kinks. Tamer things than what I confessed to you, but things I enjoy all the same. Oh, god. Lingerie, for one."

Jim grinned, sitting up straighter. "You are just full of surprises, aren't you?"

John bit his lip. "Never underestimate me when it comes to sex," he said, trying to look as demure as possible. "There are other things, as well. Toys I want to buy. A minifridge, stocked with treats. Other outfits. Instruments."

Jim moved quickly, barely a blink passing before John was pinned on the couch. "I won't, keep talking."

John looked up at him, shivering. "I want a spreader bar. Beads. Flogs. Many things to be spanked with, in fact. Silk ropes and leather cuffs and plugs and oils and flavored lubricants. A corset. Knickers. Heels. A place to keep my RAMC uniform. A bed with a slotted headboard."

Jim growled, kissing him hard and deep. "I've already got the headboard," he breathed. "I have some of those things you mentioned, too. Never really had the chance to use them..."

John rocked against him, groaning. "Lucky me, then. It's a shame we have to wait..."

Jim licked his lips. "Trust me, sugar, it'll be worth the wait."

John arched his eyebrow. "Oh it better be. I'm going crazy without knowing."

Jim cocked his head. "Not knowing what?"

"How many ways you can make me scream for you."

Jim smirked. "You might want to think about keeping a tally."

John chuckled. "Scratch it into the bedpost."

"That's a two thousand dollar bedpost."

John sighed. "Oh, fine. I'll find something else, then."

Jim chuckled and nuzzled into his neck. "I'm fucking with you."

"Mmm. Not yet you aren't. Good. By this time next month, though. You may not have a bedpost left."

Jim grinned. "Damn right I won't."

John leaned up and nipped gently at Jim's lips. "Look at that." He rocked upward. "Like a bloody teenager."

Jim rocked back. "I have that effect on people."

John ran his tongue across his own lips, looking up at him with a heated gaze, still pinned. "Hopefully not too many. I don't share well. I'd hate to make a mess of your nice carpets with the blood of my competition."

"The number's a lot smaller than you may think," he assured.

"Alright. But I would. I'm an insanely jealous man."

Jim thought a moment, taking a chance. "Five."

"Five?"

"Five partners I've taken." He paused briefly, then added. "Willingly."

John tilted his head. "I figured you'd have had lines wrapping around the corner, people begging for your attention."

"I'm...selective," he smirked.

John hummed softly. "Lucky me."

Jim grinned. "Damn right, lucky you."

John rolled his hips again. "I'm a little, um. Embarrassed, now."

Jim frowned. "Why?"

John blushed. "Thirty-seven. That I can, um. Remember."

Jim smiled a little, but it didn't reach his eyes as he touched his cheek. "Don't be embarrassed. I said 'willingly' remember?"

John furrowed his brow, catching the sadness in his eyes, but unwilling to press it so soon. "Mine were willing, I just. A lot of my pre-med years are a blur."

Jim giggled. "Well that's what you're supposed to do at Uni.”

"Well, you know, paying for it out of pocket, studying might have helped."

Jim nodded. "That definitely would've done it."

John pulled him closer. "Are you alright?"

"What? Oh, yeah, fine. Just fine," he smiled.

John reached up and brushed his cheek. "Sorry if I upset you.”

Jim shook his head. "You did absolutely nothing wrong," he whispered, kissing his fingers.

"Alright," he said, tracing down along his jaw. "You really are gorgeous, but you already knew that."

Jim grinned. "Doesn't hurt hearing it. Been awhile since I've had someone around."

John returned the expression. "You'll hear it a lot, having me around. I've been told I tend to state the obvious."

Jim laughed. "I think you're precious.”

"Mmm, I'm glad."

"Thought I'd get more of a fight on that comment." Jim smiled, leaning against his chest.

John snorted. "Maybe it's sinking in."

"What is?"

"All this praise you're showering on me. Even if it is cutesy."

Jim shrugged. "Well, you're cute. I thought it only fitting."

John pretended to scoff. "I'm thirty-seven, I'm too old to be cute."

Jim snorted. "Please."

John arched his eyebrow. "I mean it."

Jim kissed him, holding his face. "And when I say you're cute, I mean it.”

John forced a sigh. "Alright, alright, yes, sir."

"Oh, come, now, look at you. All compact and soft and snuggly. How are you not cute? You're a fucking hedgehog for Chrissakes."

John groaned. "Oh, god, not that again."

Jim cocked his head. "Again?" He grinned.

"When I was little, Harry used to call me that."

"Your sister makes some good observations," he teased.

John nudged him slightly. "I’ll prove to you I'm no rodent."

"But you're just so cute and when you get mad you get all puffy," he giggled.

John sighed. "Just you wait. Soon, you'll find me far more dangerous than a hedgehog."

Jim kissed his forehead. "A hedgehog with a gun. That's very dangerous."

John groaned louder. "I look nothing like a hedgehog, not when I'm... gone."

Jim smiled. "I know, love. I just like messing with you."

John snorted. "Oh believe me, I can see that."

"It's just so fun," Jim said, kissing the tip of his nose.

"Yes, but there's so many other ways you could be enjoying yourself."

"Oh, loads more. But I'm waiting for you to heal, remember?"

"Yes, yes. Believe me, I haven't forgotten. To my infinite frustration."

Jim kissed him. "Then teasing you is all I have," he said dramatically.

John grinned. "Yes, it is. And you're so insufferably good at it."

Jim kissed him. "Now, don't tell anyone I'm cuddly, either. Ruins my reputation of binding things in human skin."

John shivered. "Why. Why is that sexy?"

Jim licked his lips. "Well...I am Mr. Sex."

John groaned and rolled against him, eager for contact. "So who gets bound? Anyone particularly trophy-worthy, or just special cases?"

"Almost turned The Woman into a pair of shoes..." He remarked. "Not that you know who that is. Mostly it's people that have irked me terribly but have a very fine complexion."

John licked his lips and looked away. 'And if... if I wanted a, um.”

Jim smirked and turned his chin. "If you wanted...?"

John forced himself to meet his gaze. "And if I wanted to skin my first, and have it bound into something?"

Jim grinned. "All you'd have to do is ask," he winked.

John nodded. "Alright."

Jim smiled. "I do recommend it being someone you really didn't like. Something personal."

"I don't really... My father's dead, and I don't really hold many grudges."

Jim gave a rueful laugh. "Trust me, dear, you'll see how wretched human beings can be. You'll want some people skinned."

"Alright. I'm sure we'll find someone awful enough."

Jim nodded. "Damn straight."

"And if they're awful enough. Someone who breaks my rules. I'll do it myself.”

Jim grinned, sly and wicked. "Gorgeous."

John loved that look. God, he did. It sent sparks shooting down his spine. "Would you watch?"

Jim nodded. "Fuck you covered in their blood too."

John let out a ragged whimper. "While they screamed."

Jim nodded, sucking at his pulse. "Oh, absolutely. Right in front of them on the wall, lick the blood off your hands..."

John curved into him, running his hands down his back. "Oh, fuck, yes."

Jim grinned down at him. "You like it when I talk like that?" He whispered, dragging hands down his body.

John shuddered, pressing their hips together, pressing his head back against the couch. "God, yes, I do. It's hot, and it's wrong, and I want it so badly."

Jim snarled. "Ooh, we are insatiable, aren't we?"

John groaned at the look on his face. "Warned you. What's that, ten, fifteen minutes?"

Jim licked at John's mouth. "Something like that."

John parted his lips for him, trying to maneuver his legs a little wider apart.

Jim was curious, widening his legs for him as their tongues slid together.

John managed exactly what he needed, sliding his legs from under Jim's and wrapping them around his waist.

Jim grinned and moaned softly. "Fucking hot, you are."

John twisted his hips, mindful of his stitches, rubbing his groin against Jim's as his thighs squeezed against him. "And just think, it will only get better."

Jim groaned, rocking back. "Oh, I know," he breathed. "Fuck to I know- God!"

John leaned up, pressing his lips against Jim's jaw, nibbling at his skin, wishing he rub his entire body against that slight stubble. He curved into him, cursing their layers, eager for the friction Jim's body offered.

Jim moaned in response, rocking harder. "Coming in my pants twice, are you?" He breathed, grunting.

John squeezed a little tighter, dragging light nails down his shirt. "Maybe three times, if you, oh, fuck- if you play your cards right."

Jim grinned wryly and tugged the collar of John's shirt aside, staring hungrily at his scar for a beat before attaching his lips to it.

John gasped, eyes flying closed as he pressed harder, his movements becoming more frantic. "Jesus, Jim, that's... fuck, fuck, yes!”

“That good?" He whispered, biting down on the scar.

John dug his fingernails through the fabric of Jim's shirt, practically shouting as he used his legs to pull Jim's hips closer. "Oh, FUCK!" He was already close, overstimulated and eager, and Jim's attention to his scar was driving him mad.

"I'll take that as a yes," Jim breathed, licking and tracing the skin. The noises John was making sent heat to his groin, grinding harder against the doctor.

John trembled, whining and whimpering as he came closer to the edge. "J-Jim, please, don't stop... So good, feels fucking amazing..."

Jim continued sucking at biting his tender skin, rutting together through their clothes, moaning aloud. "So fucking sexy, John, those pretty noises you make..."

John gripped him tighter, his movements become more wild as Jim worked against his scar. "Uhn, Jim..." He closed his eyes, shaking from head to toe, heart racing. Without warning his muscles locked, drawing a long, shuddering cry from him as he came.

Jim continued rocking against him until he came a moment later, gasping softly. He pressed one more kiss to the scar before letting the collar go. He grinned at him. "So, someone likes it there."

John leaned his head back, catching his breath. "Told you."

Jim nodded. "Yes, you did," he smiled, gasping himself.

John grinned, finally relinquishing his grip to rub small circles into Jim's back. "Part of me wants to change clothes. Part of me would rather stay filthy awhile longer. And then a part of me wants to go back to sleep."

Jim cocked his head, smiling at him. "Whatever you want to do, love."

John stretched beneath him, chest pressing upward as he popped his back with a content sigh. "I choose both. Sleep, again, without giving you your clothes to be washed. I am, after all, still healing, and therefore, I'm entitled to a bit of Old Man Sleeps."

Jim chuckled. "Yes, you sleep," he smiled, settling on top of him. "And I think I'll join you."

John stilled his hands, holding Jim against his chest as he let his eyes fall closed. On the telly, he could hear hissing over classical music. With his eyes shut, he could still see it perfectly- except it was not Anthony Hopkins bringing the baton down over and over. It was Jim. And covered in blood, he made quite the sight.

Jim sighed softly, noting how soft and warm John was, falling asleep easily, holding him tight. He could get used to sleeping with John Watson. And then some.

John managed, somehow, to sleep like the dead. Exhausted from their fooling around, body still weak from healing, the doctor ended up sleeping through the night. Right on the couch, despite how hard he knew his body would protest in the morning.

Jim woke a few hours later, noting the dead sleep John had entered. He smiled a little, leaning down and scooping him into his arms, not wanting him to be in immense pain when he woke, and carried him upstairs to the bed. He tucked him under the covers, kissing his hair and disappearing downstairs. He came back up several hours later and got into bed beside him, wrapping arms around him and holding him to his chest. God, this was nice.

John did not rouse when Jim returned; he simply curled against him with a quiet noise that probably might have been his name if he were conscious enough to speak.

Jim smiled softly, falling asleep smoothing his hair, ready for tomorrow.


	4. Sin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for John's first job- a man who's been stealing from Jim. Things don't go exactly according to plan.

John woke first, noticing the rather unpleasant way his pants clung to him. "Ugh," he groaned, burying his face in Jim's chest. "Shower."

Jim stirred a little. "Need m' help?" He mumbled.

John grinned, despite the sleep still clinging to him. "Only if you want the chance to see how badly I ruined your pants. Otherwise, I think I can manage."

Jim grumbled. "It comes out," he breathed, eyes still closed. "Mm, wake me up when you're all clean and naked."

John chuckled and kissed his jaw. "Yes, sir." He climbed out of bed, albeit grudgingly, and stretched. He made his way to the bathroom, stronger than yesterday, something nagging at the back of his mind as he took his clothes off and turned on the shower. _He carried me to bed. We discussed skinning, and fucking in gore, and he carried my unconscious arse to bed._

Jim fell back to sleep with a soft smile on his face, eager for John to come back.

John washed himself carefully, cleaning every inch of his body and paying special attention to his stitches. When he was confident he smelled better, and he no longer felt like hell, he turned off the water and tossed his clothes into the hamper. He committed the image of those green pants to memory, though. _That_ was incredibly arousing. He dried off and added his towel to the rapidly-filling basket before returning to the bedroom and crawling back under the covers.

Jim woke at the movement, grinning and putting his hands on John's bare waist. "Mm, hello..."

John smiled. "Clean and naked, as requested."

Jim hummed in his throat, covering John's face with kisses. "And aren't you pretty?"

John had noticed less discoloration on his face. "Mm, getting there, definitely."

Jim smiled. "I think you're gorgeous."

John returned the expression. "Thank you. Funny, I feel the same way about you. So what's our schedule look like today?"

"Well, first item on the agenda," he purred, running his hand up the inside of his leg. "Is to take advantage of this situation."

John shivered, licking his lips as Jim's hand traveled. "And how, exactly, do you want to do that?"

Jim grinned. "With a, um, friend of mine," he chuckled, reaching in the bedside drawer and taking something out John couldn't see, hands going back under the covers. "See, it slips on like this," he whispered, sliding two rubber rings about three inches apart with something heavy between them over John's cock. "And then I take this remote..." He showed it to him, waving it a little. "And turn it on like this." The device started buzzing.

John gasped, back arching as the vibrations began. He dug his nails into the sheets, unable to form coherent speech. This was new, it was very new, and it felt fucking _incredible_.

Jim grinned. "First time with a vibrator, love?" He whispered, grabbing his waist and holding him close.

John moaned, letting his head fall into Jim's chest. "Fuck, yes, it... uhn, it is. Christ, that's..."

Jim reached down to fondle his testicles. "That's what?" He goaded, grinning wickedly.

John cried out, pressing his skull harder against Jim's chest. "Fucking great, is what it is." He closed his eyes, whimpering at the feel of Jim's hand and the sensation flooding his mind from the toy wrapped around him.

Jim smiled. "I'm glad you like it," he whispered, turning it up. He let go for just a moment, slipping the covers down to get a good look at him. "Oh, darling, you are beautiful..."

John let out a string of curses as it picked up speed, incredibly shy as Jim studied him. _Funny thing, being nervous around a man who promised to fuck you in a pool of warm blood._ He couldn't help it, though; it'd been ages since anyone had seen him so vulnerable, so utterly wrecked, with nothing to hide behind. He risked a look at Jim, lips parted, eyes half-lidded with pleasure.

Jim smiled at him, kissing him. "So fucking sexy, John, look what you do to me," he whispered, pressing his hips against his leg. "Don't be shy, you're gorgeous. Every goddamn inch of you, _look_ at you...”

John kissed him back, lips trembling. Jim was hard, and oh god, that made John feel even better. He wondered what it would feel like, on all fours with Jim filling him, the vibrator turned up to its maximum as John writhed... The doctor moaned at the thought, rocking his hips, rubbing against Jim as he began to fall apart.

Jim tapped his slit with the tip of his index finger, upping the setting on the vibrator again.

John bit his lip hard enough to draw blood, knuckles white as he gripped the sheets. He was _positive_ the noises he was making weren't human.

Jim licked up the blood that fell, kissing him hard. "John, you can touch me," he breathed, moving to hover over him.

John moaned into Jim's mouth, letting one hand move to wrap around his cock, squeezing gently as he began to stroke.

Jim groaned, eyes dark and hungry and never once leaving John.

John couldn't look away, couldn't force himself to close himself off from those intense black eyes. They watched each other, John's hand moving in time with the pleasure wracking his body, moving faster the closer he got. He was getting close already, unused to the stimulation.

Jim licked his teeth, going to the next setting on the toy just to watch him moan.

John cried out again, shaking, his rhythm faltering as he succumbed. His body tensed as he came, a shuddering moan of Jim's name slipping from his lips.

Jim licked his lips, giggling. "Mmn...already?" He whispered.

John hid his face, body sensitive. "S-sorry."

Jim shut off the device, dropping the remote. "You're gorgeous."

"I'm apparently quick." He was a little ashamed.

Jim lifted his chin, kissing him with a small smile. "You lasted longer than most do with one of those," he chuckled.

"Well, that's a small relief." He looked down at the mess between them, at Jim's neglected erection. "May I?"

Jim nodded. "Help yourself," he agreed, kissing his forehead.

John scooted down, gently rolling Jim onto his back. With a steady tongue he began to clean himself from Jim's body, his hand moving to stroke him while he worked.

Jim groaned, eyes fluttering. "Mm...that's wonderful..." He cooed, smoothing his hair.

John groaned at the taste of his own come mingled with the slight sweat on Jim's skin; it was something he'd always wanted to do. When he was done he took Jim in his mouth, eagerly running his tongue up and down his shaft.

Jim licked his lips, watching him. His eyes were dark, thighs trembling a little under his attentions. "Ooh, there's a good boy. Good boy..."

John opened his eyes, faltering at the expression on the man's face. _Jesus fucking christ, if he keeps looking at me like that I might come again._ He continued, hollowing his cheeks as he began to suck, never looking away from Jim's dark eyes.

Jim grunted, thumbing his cheek, gasping. "You have really pretty eyes."

John made a pleased noise, dipping lower, forcing himself to take Jim to his base.

Jim gasped loud, arching up into him a little. "Oh! Oh, that's new... Such a fast learner, baby!"

John gently drew a finger down the seam of his sac, cupping him as he worked his way up once more. He picked up the pace, encouraged by Jim's response.

Jim gasped, still watching him, parting his legs and moaning out his name. "Yes, yes, so fucking _good_..."

John hummed quietly, vibrating his vocal chords just enough to be felt as he sucked harder, maintaining his gaze.

Jim growled, moaning aloud. "Fuck, oh god, yes!"

John began to lick words against him, lips trying to quirk in a grin around the muscle in his mouth. I-W-A-N-T-T-O-T-A-S-T-E-Y-O-U.

Jim gasped raggedly. "You will, oh, fuck, you will. Keep using that pretty tongue, sweetheart."

John groaned. P-U-L-L-M-Y-H-A-I-R.

Jim snarled, hips twitching. "Manners..."

John made a low whine. P-L-E-A-S-E?

Jim tugged John's hair, growling.

John moaned around him, eyes fluttering briefly as he worked along Jim's cock. T-H-A-N-K-Y-O-U-S-I-R.

"Oh you are so welcome, darling. Mm, gonna come down your pretty throat. Right in your fucking mouth, baby..."

John shivered. I didn't even know I liked that. He took Jim to the base once more, his tongue a little awkward for the position, but still it did not cease. P-L-E-A-S-E-C-O-M-E-P-L-E-A-S-E-J-I-M.

Jim gasped and whined. "John, John...John! JOHN!"

John managed to suck in a breath through his nostrils before tightening his throat, as tight as it would go around Jim's length, before drawing back and forcing him down again. And again. And again.

Jim came hard down his throat with a shout, hand in a vice in his hair. "FUCK! JOHN!"

John swallowed every drop, eyes watering as Jim clutched him. When he was sure he'd finished, he slid off of him and collapsed beside him, gasping for air.

Jim caught his breath and guided him back up into his arms. "You are perfect," he breathed, kissing his hair. "And wonderful, and beautiful, and absolutely amazing."

John blushed. "That means a lot to me, especially coming from you."

Jim smiled. "Well, it's true."

John pressed against him, smiling stupidly. "So, now that that's out of the way," he said with a chuckle, "what are we doing in Cardiff?"

Jim smirked. "Killing a CEO's coworkers in front of him, cutting off his limbs and burning the place to the ground. He took more than his fair share in our deal. I'm ending him for being greedy."

John groaned. "When do we leave?"

Jim kissed his forehead. "Soon as I'm dressed." He hopped out of the bed and went to his closet, selecting carefully. He looked over his shoulder at him, smiling. "You're welcome to anything that fits you."

John grinned. "Alright." He went to look for clothes, searching out a pair of jeans and some form of shirt. "Um. Anything in particular you don't want ruined?"

Jim giggled. "So long as it isn't silk or satin I can get blood out of anything," he smiled, selecting a dark suit for himself. "Or in my case, a suit that's two years old and needs to be destroyed anyway."

John snorted at the thought. "God, silk or satin? On me? Right. Not going to happen outside of, say, the bedroom." He found a long-sleeved blue shirt to match a pair of denims he'd found and got dressed, not bothering with pants.

Jim smirked, turning him around, trousers on his hips. "Baby, the things I could put on this body of yours and the way they'd make you look would astound you," he purred. "Besides, didn't someone say they had a thing for knickers?"

John blushed a little. "Oh, I do. I definitely do. But I'm not going to running around in blood with them on, they aren't cheap."

Jim licked his lips. "Not to sound like some sugar daddy or something, but you let me worry about money I spend on you," he whispered, holding him, a seriousness coming into his eyes. "John, you're never going to have to worry about spending again. No more thrift shops, no more clearance sales, no more advanced checks just to get milk, okay? That army pension's your coffee money now, not your livelihood." He kissed his forehead, lingering a moment.

John blushed a little deeper. "Um. Alright. It's going to take some getting used to, though. I guess I'll correct myself: No satin or silk at crime scenes, unless it's beneath the trousers. Or you specifically ask me to."

Jim kissed him again. "You'll figure it out. I'll spank you every time I catch you trying to balance a checkbook," he teased.

"I can't tell if that's supposed to stop me or encourage me." He bit gently at Jim's lips before taking a step back. "Ready?"

Jim smirked, giving John a slap on the rear before grabbing his sunglasses off the dresser and disappearing from the room. "Car's outside!" He called back.

John pulled on his jacket and followed him quickly, all too eager for this. There was the chance he might choke, and be punished, but something inside of him just... wanted. Wanted to be exactly what Jim was asking him to be. And so he followed, like a pet, always staying a pace behind Jim, until they were both in the car.

Jim slung his arm over the seat, open for John to nestle beside him, grinning when he did. "The Ice Man might try to talk to you one of these days," he remarked.

John cocked his head. "Sorry?"

Jim smiled a little. "Sorry. Mycroft."

"Why? You said yourself Sherlock told no one I was gone."

Jim snorted. "Since when did Sherlock have to tell Mycroft anything for him to know it?"

"...Fair enough. What do I do if he does?"

Jim cocked his head. "Be honest with him."

John swallowed. "Will he just. Let me go?"

Jim cracked his knuckles. "He tries to keep you and he knows what'll happen."

John nodded. "Alright. That's... That's good. That he won't force me to stay."

"Not if he wants Big Ben to stay standing," he snarled.

John looked up at him, blue eyes dark. "You'd blow up Big Ben? If he kept me?"

"I'd do that and gas half of Parliament if he tried to keep you."

John licked his lips. _So much, and he's only had me around for a few days._ "I'd love to see your response after a month of having me. I might ask again then." He leaned back, adjusting so his head was on Jim's shoulder. He didn't want to mess up his suit, but it was nice. Much better than the last time they were in a car together.

Jim ran fingers through his hair, toying lightly. "You should let me do your hair sometime." He cocked his head, thinking a moment. "Saturday. You think you can let me have at you for a day? If you hate what I do I'll leave you alone about it, alright?”

John snorted. "That bad, is it? If you think you can do something with what's left of it, you're more than welcome to try."

Jim shook his head, turning his chin. "All I'm doing is showing you how beautiful you already are. And what you refuse to think about what this sexy body of yours can pull off."

"This isn't a self-esteem issue. It's cropped very short, is all. And... thank you."

"For what?"

"The compliments."

Jim kissed his cheek. "Do you thank the Earth for being round?"

John grinned. "No, but I probably should.”

Jim smiled back. "Don't thank me for simple facts, my darling."

John settled back against him, quietly, closing his eyes. It was peaceful. _The calm before the storm_. He wondered if Jim would get rid of him when he saw... when he saw what would happen.

Jim knew John was worried. He smoothed his hair as the drive continued, staring out the window. _Trust me, sugar, nothing's gonna scare me away from you_.

John managed to doze lightly, somehow. He made a noise and moved a little closer to Jim.

Jim kissed his forehead. "Shh, right here, right here."

John didn't wake up until he felt the car stop, eyes snapping open, his gaze dark. "Are we here?"

Jim chuckled. "Eager, hm? Yes, we're here." He slid out of the car, staring up the building. He handed John a gun. "One shot in the air when we get into the meeting room, okay? Then start at the head of the table and move to the left. One by one after I tell you to, got it?" He smirked.

John licked his lips. "Fire one shot. Into the air. Right when we get into the room, or will you signal?"

"Right when we get in there to get their attention," he replied, starting to stride up to the building.

John followed behind him. "Alright. I can do that." He flicked the safety off and placed his finger on the trigger.

Jim stepped up to the front desk with a smile. "Hi, I'm Jim Baker, Lionel's brother? It's his birthday and I wanted to surprise him," he beamed, Welsh accent strong. The receptionist peeked over his shoulder at John. "And who's that?" She asked. "Oh, that's my fiance, Hamish." She smiled. "Oh! Okay, yeah, go on up." He took John's hand. "Thank you so much. Let's go, dear. Cor, he's going to be so excited," he squeaked, beaming and making his way to the lift. His smile faded to a smirk when they got into the lift, pressing the button to the right floor.

John smiled at the right moments, taking Jim's hand gladly, the hard glint never leaving his eyes. He loved his accents. Any of them. All of them.

"Really wish I could've snapped the bitch's neck," Jim sighed, almost wistful. He glanced at him, noting the look on his face. "You alright?"

John grinned. "Oh yes. Yes, I'm perfect. Just focused."

"Good," he chuckled. The elevator dinged and the door opened, John close behind. He stalked toward the door, giving John a wink before opening it, letting him go ahead of him, cracking his neck. "Showtime."

John walked in and fired one shot, pose utterly transformed into that of the captain. At only 5'6, he commanded the attention of every single person in the room as Jim strode in behind him.

"Hello!" Jim sang, popping in behind him. He gave a fake wince. "Ooh, sorry, are we interrupting?" He grinned, staring down the man on the other end of the room. "Come now, Lionel, you didn't think I'd let you get away with all that, did you?" He chuckled. He glanced at John, snapping his fingers, not even wincing when the gun went off, sending the man closest to John's brains spattering over the table and his coworker's face. The woman to his left screamed and he grabbed her hair, twisting and bringing his lips to her ear. "Shh..." He hissed. "Hush, hush, you stupid cunt, or you're next," he snarled. He slammed her face into the table and looked up at Lionel again. "You should know better than to steal from me." He snapped again.

John barely moved. Jim snapped his fingers, and John simply lifted his arm and fired. Unerring accuracy, slightly above the brow, in the middle of the forehead. He did not blink as his gun released the bullet. He barely registered the screams, his senses honed down to his own steady heartbeat and the sound of Jim's fingers. Snap. He fired again, at next man, counting the bullets used in his mind. _Three_. He had ten more, which would be plenty. This one landed a little higher, but roughly in the same spot. John was still. John was calm. John was an extension of his weapon, nothing more.

 _God, he's perfect_ , Jim thought, still grinning maliciously. He took care of the rest of the people surrounding the greedy thief, their blood soaking the walls, carpet and chairs. "Johnny, baby, hand me your gun," he said, holding out his hand, eyes never leaving the man stammering and blubbering for his life.

John turned to Jim, something dark burning in his eyes. "If I must." He handed it over, reluctantly, immediately missing the the molded grip in his left hand.

Jim took it from him, pressing it against the man's temple. "Shh, hush, hush, now. Johnny, love, see that pretty antique sword on the wall? How about you get it down, eh?" He grinned, meeting his eyes.

John grinned widely, nodding curtly. He moved to the wall, closing his hand around the steel and lifting it from its display. He walked back to Jim and stood waiting.

"Johnny, tell me, do you need arms in Hell?"

"Of course not."

"Why don't you rid Mr. Stevens here of his, since he won't be needing them?" Jim grinned, pressing the gun into his temple.

John stepped forward without a sound, lifting it with two hands and bringing it down with his full strength. The man screamed as it bit into his flesh, blood spraying from the wound. It took three hacks for the sword to sever the bone, his arm falling to the carpet in a pool of gore. John moved to the next and repeated his actions, getting it in two strikes. He was covered in blood, blue eyes glinting, lips pulled in a sideways grin as the business man shrieked and cried.

Jim cackled, licking a bit of blood off John's face as he passed. He grabbed the man's hair, forcing his head back. "He's very precise, isn't he?" He grinned, yanking his chair back from the table, handing John the gun back. "Get rid of his kneecaps for me, baby."

John stabbed the sword through one of the bodies slumped in the chair. Two quick twitches of his muscles, two small explosions of bone and blood showering from his legs.

Jim grinned again, listening to the man scream. "I told you not to fuck with me, didn't I?" He snarled, watching the man nod. "Pathetic fucker." He strode over to one of the women's purses, pulling out a bottle of perfume. He screwed off the top, pouring the contents on the carpet and flinging it over the table. He did the same with several lighters and one woman who carried a bottle of nail polish remover. "Isn't that wonderful?" He grinned. "Didn't even need the lighter fluid." He struck a match, tossing it onto a pile of papers, watching the blaze that sprung up. "Hopefully you'll suffocate!" He called, hooking his arm in John's and stepping out into the hallway, back to the lift. The moment they were inside he slammed him against the wall, kissing him hard and deep.

John flicked the safety of his gun on and tucked it into his belt, wrapping his arms around Jim's waist and pulling him closer. He let himself get lost in his lips, sucking on his tongue and growling at the taste of him. When they finally parted, his dark grin returned. "Good?"

Jim licked the blood he'd gotten on his lips off. "Yes. Absolutely perfect, darling."

John took a deep breath, able to smell the smoke even in the lift. "Good. Damn sword's edge was too blunt. I was worried."

Jim chuckled darkly, sucking at his neck. "You were absolutely brilliant. Did everything just right."

John pulled him close. "It's a shame..."

Jim cocked his head. "What is?"

John growled low in Jim's ear. "That you can't fuck me right fucking now."

Jim whined. "Don't remind me, baby."

John chuckled. "Didn't think that through too well, did you? Oh, it was incredible, but here we are. Bloody, in a burning building, hard... and nothing we can do about it."

Jim slammed him back against the wall, holding his throat in his hand. "You think I might've done this because I want to make you wait?"

John growled, lips pulled back in a snarl. "Oh no, I know that's why you did it. Cruel of you."

"Yes it is. And don't you question anything I might or might not've thought through again, understand?"

John glared at him. "Fine," he spat, still caught in the violent mindset of the kill.

Jim kept him still against the wall. "John, I suggest you remember who you're talking to right now."

John took a deep breath, still snarling. "Yes, sir."

Jim still hadn't moved, eyes dark, waiting for John to be more aware of himself.

John saw the doors open from the corner of his eyes, and he blinked. Once, twice, three times, and then he was back, slightly worried-looking.

Jim slowly let go of his throat, pecking his lips. "There you are."

John looked down, rubbing his aching neck. "Sorry..."

"Shh, don't be sorry. Just be more self-aware next time, alright?" He stepped out into the lobby, shooting the receptionist in the head on their way out. He got into the car with John beside him, the vehicle getting about a block away before the building exploded behind them.

"I can't be," John whispered quietly. He did not flinch when the woman died, nor when the building went up. He felt like an idiot.

Jim turned his chin. "Talk to me," he said softly.

"It's not exactly... When I'm on the field, I'm... different. Dominant. Demanding. Confidant. And it's hard to not be. It gets harder to bring me out of it. Ruthless. It'll get me killed. One day you're not going to be able to pull me out of it. And you'll put me down."

Jim cupped his neck. "We'll work on it," he swore. "Trust me, we'll figure this out."

John nodded weakly. "'Kay."

"Hey," he whispered, ducking to meet his eyes. "I will not 'put you down' John. Not ever, okay? We need to get used to each other, just might take a minute."

John swallowed. "Okay."

Jim held his face. "John, sweetheart, don't be worried. It's okay."

John looked up at him. "Okay." He placed his trembling left hand over Jim's.

Jim took his hand and brought his fingers to his lips, kissing each one of them. "You were perfect."

John let out a ragged breath, remembering the weight of the sword in his hand. "Thank you."

Jim laced their fingers together, kissing his neck and holding his face. "Mmn... You did such a good, good job, darling," he whispered, slipping his hands down to his lap. "I think you deserve a reward, baby."

John made a slightly surprised noise. "I... I do?"

"Of course you do," Jim smirked, palming him through his denims. "Did everything I asked you to, and with such precision, darling." He started sucking at his neck again.

John let his eyes fall closed, picturing the bloody scene in his head. Despite his fear, despite his shame, Jim's attentions and the memories of what they'd done began to make his blood flow. He arched into his hand with a soft moan.

Jim hummed softly, licking his lips. "Oh, darling, you get so hard so quickly. So good for me..." He popped his hands open and slipped his hand inside. He grinned. "Mm, you know, I think you might've planned this, not wearing pants. Sexy thing, you."

John groaned quietly, opening his eyes to watch. They were darkening rapidly. "I may have gone without them just in case..."

"Mm, naughty, naughty," Jim cooed, fingertips brushing against his arousal.

John gasped, the sound fading into a whimper. "I, ah... knew I'd do exactly what you asked..."

"Knew you'd be good for me?" He whispered, grinning as he slowly started to peek out of his jeans. He traced the underside of his head, licking his lips.

John shuddered. "Of course. I like being good."

"Oh, I know you do. You get treats like this when you're good," he grinned, nipping at his lips.

John nodded, breathing raggedly. "Y-yes, I'll always behave for you.”

Jim smiled. "Good." He wrapped his hand around him, starting to stroke him slowly.

John leaned his head back, holding his hips still, taking what Jim would give him. He whimpered quietly, focusing on the feel of Jim's hand as the world passed by outside the windows.

"John, baby, it's okay," Jim whispered, lips beside his ear. "Move, make noise, be you. You're not going to make me mad, come on."

John licked his lips. _You have permission_. He started to rock into Jim's hand, not bothering to stifle his noises any longer (regardless of the driver's presence; John was positive the man'd heard worse).

Jim grinned. "There we are, darling. Look at you move, John," he whispered, voice low and hot in his ear. He twisted his hand on each upstroke, thumbing his head. "Mmn...beautiful."

John wondered if he'd ever stop being surprised by just how good those half-purred compliments made him feel. Christ, they made him feel good, and with Jim's low whisper right against his skin, drowning everything else out... The doctor moaned loudly, a shuddering sound full of desperation and desire.

Jim stroked him hard and quick, sucking his earlobe. "Such a shame Sherlock was too stupid to notice you. Could've given you proper attention." He kissed behind his ear. "But I guess that means more for me."

John gasped as Jim moved quicker, loving every whispered word. He was so very good at pushing every one of John's buttons, his quiet voice so close to his ear... Just like in the pool, and god, it had the same effect. "Rather be yours," he whispered back. "You, uhn, know how to treat me.”

"Goddamn right I do," Jim breathed, stroking him quicker, fist tighter. "Treat you like you're supposed to be fucking treated. Bloody worshipped, more like..."

John felt his legs trembling. The adrenaline from the kill, Jim's words, his skillful hand... he wouldn't be able to last much longer. "Oh, fuck... w-worshipped?"

Jim nodded, kissing him gently. "Absolutely. Look at you, every fucking inch of you needs to be praised, darling."

John moaned against Jim's lips, eyelashes fluttering. "Yours," he managed to pant. "All yours, to... to do with as you please."

Jim giggled. "Absolutely mine. Can't wait to have at your properly."

John shivered at the thought. "Would you... talk to me? About things you want to do to me?" God, just the thought pushed him closer to the edge.

"Get you tied down and spread open for me on my bed," he whispered. "Finger fuck you open and wait 'til you're screaming before I put my cock in you. Watch you touch yourself while I lick you open, fuck your face, get you off just petting that scar of yours, it's such a long list, baby."

John dug his nails into the leather seat, unable to hold back as Jim whispered each activity against his skin. "Oh, fuck, yes, yes, all of it, everything, JIM!" He came across his hand with a near scream, shaking and gasping for breath.

Jim grinned, ducking his head to lap up every bit of his release and kissed him. He parted his lips, tucking him back in his jeans. "Good boy."

John groaned at the sight of his tongue, licking them clean. Fuck, he wanted to kiss him. He moved closer to him, a little unsure if he should.

Jim grinned at him, tapping his lips. "Come get it."

John surged forward, licking into Jim's mouth almost greedily, kissing him hard and deep and eagerly.

Jim laughed in his throat, moaning and wrapping his arms around his neck. "Ooh, and we're not even in the heavy stuff yet. Fuck."

John bit gently at Jim's lower lip. "Can't help it. God, you just... make me feel incredible."

Jim held his jaw. "Good. So very glad, darling."

John smiled at him, feeling better, promising himself to do better next time. For Jim.

Jim smoothed his hair and kissed his forehead. "We'll get some lunch when we get home," he nodded.

John settled down against him with a content sigh, resting his head on his shoulder. "Do I have to eat?"

Jim frowned and looked at him. "You're not hungry?"

"Oh, no I am. I'm always hungry after a battle. I just don't want to eat."

Jim cocked his head. "You lost me."

"It's... hard to explain. I love food, I do, and I'm famished. But I'm worried that if I eat... I won't be able to keep it down. At least, not yet."

Jim absently started to rub John's stomach, as if to settle it. "I'm sorry, love."

"It's alright. It's nothing bad, just... it's like coming down off a high. Leaves me feeling weak."

"Tell me what to do to help."

"Nothing really will, it's a... chemical thing. All that adrenaline, it leaves me exhausted when it leaves my system. For now, at least."

Jim kissed his hair. "You just tell me when you want to eat and we'll eat," he nodded.

John smiled. "Mmm, I will. It'll probably be an hour or two, though. Anything else planned tonight?"

"No. I try to limit things to one catastrophic event at a time. Keeps the Yard fooled."

John giggled. "That makes sense. Are you all mine when we get home, then?"

Jim traced his lips. "All yours."

John blushed. "Good."

"You rest for awhile, huh?" He breathed, pulling him closer.

John nodded, kissing his chest through his blood-stained shirt before closing his eyes.

Jim giggled to himself, kissing his forehead, watching him rest. Scary, sexy and yet so damn adorable.

John snuggled against Jim, dozing lightly and easily. Sleeping came much easier around him, somehow. John thought it had something to do with how close Jim let him; having someone touching him while he slept did wonders for keeping the dreams at bay.


	5. A Warm Place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Jim unwind after the kill.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here's some fluff. There is a lot of fluff. I was all excited for a Dark!John AU, and then whoops, only dark during the work scenes. Oh well! There's not nearly enough Johniarty (or JimmyJohn's, as we call it) fluff, in my opinion.

Jim watched him sleep. How peaceful and calm he looked. He liked it. He waited through the car ride, waking him when they arrived. "John, Johnny, baby, wake up."

John yawned and sat up, cracking his neck. "Mm. Good. Are we home?"

Jim nodded. "Yeah, we're home, come on," he smiled, grabbing his hand and guiding him out behind him toward the house.

John followed Jim inside. Home.

Jim turned when they got in, holding his hips. "Hungry yet?"

John nodded. "Yes, actually. I feel better."

"Why don't we shower, order in some takeaway and watch something nerdy on the telly?" He offered, kissing his cheek.

John grinned. "Sounds like a perfect evening. Can we get Chinese? I have a craving."

Jim kissed his cheek. "Anything you want. What do you usually get?"

"Usually? General Tso's. Tonight, though, I think chicken lo mein. And an order of fried dumplings."

Jim nodded, getting on the phone and rattled off their order, giving the name Richard Brook to the man on the other end before hanging up and tossing the phone on the couch. He turned back to John, sliding his tie off his neck. "Shower?"

John licked his lips. "Um. God, yes.”

Jim's eyes darkened and his voice dropped. "Get up those stairs."

"Yes, sir," he said, moving as quickly as he could to the bathroom. God, he'd do anything if Jim commanded him in that voice.

Jim grinned and followed him up, stripping on the way there. He tossed his waistcoat aside before getting into the bathroom with him, hastily unbuttoning his shirt, still staring at him with those dark, burning eyes.

John undressed, peeling off his blood-soaked clothes and dropping them to the floor, keeping their gazes locked.

Jim licked blood off his chest, kneading his hipbones, groaning and growling.

John shivered, rolling his head back as he pressed against Jim. It was so, so incredibly hot, to have him licking his skin clean- especially of this, the evidence of what he'd done so willingly for him. _Christ, but you're an incredible man, Jim Moriarty._

"Tastes good on you," Jim purred, sucking up every bit of he could reach.

John reached back to grasp the counter, afraid of his legs giving out. "God, how am I so lucky?" His voice was breathless, barely a whisper as he watched Jim through his blonde lashes.

"Let the right man wrap you up in Semtex and whole worlds open up," he chuckled, shedding his shirt behind them. He licked up into his mouth, kissing him hard and deep. "Turn on the shower and get in."

John cupped Jim's jaw, making rather obscene moans as he claimed his mouth. When the order was given he obeyed, making sure the water was hot before stepping in.

Jim shed the rest of his clothes and followed him inside, pressing him to the tile. He grinned at him, laughing a little. "You look good wet."

John groaned at the feel of Jim's body so closer, water dripping down his brow as he looked at him. "So do you," he said quietly, walking his eyes along every inch of skin he could see.

Jim licked his lips. "Like what you see, captain?”

John nodded. "Mm. You have no idea."

Jim suckled his ear. "Tell me, then."

"God, you're gorgeous. Strong, so strong, able to lift me even when I'm sleeping. When you move, your muscles flex beneath your skin and it's just... fuck, mesmerizing. A perfect body. And your face... You don't want me to start, I could go on about your eyes for hours."

Jim grinned, kissing his neck. "Oh, sweetheart, I've got time," he purred, licking at his skin.

John moaned. "Mm, where to begin? In the light, they're this beautiful rich oak, but when you're aroused... or mad... or when you want them to, they turn black as coal. It's incredible. I love watching the shift. Christ, I do."

Jim smiled. "You have got the prettiest blue, and they get all stormy when you're focused. God, your pupils get huge, too. Remarkable, darling, so beautiful."

John blushed. "Thank you." He reached up and traced the shape of Jim's jaw. "Flawless, every inch of you. I could stare at you for hours, just admiring the arch of your brows, the curve of your jaw, your slender throat..."

Jim hummed in his chest, shivering a little. "Thank you, captain. You're not so bad yourself. Absolutely gorgeous. Your hair, your lips, your arms... That sexy scar of yours..."

John groaned, moving to run his hands through Jim's wet hair. "Just don't mention the nose," he said with a smile. "We're not on good terms, my nose and I."

Jim kissed his nose. "I happen to like your nose."

John chuckled. "At least one of us does." He pressed a kiss to Jim's lips, soft and lazy. "I mean it. You're stunning."

"Damn right, I do," he smiled. He gave something of a shy look. "Thank you."

John licked his lips. "You're so very, very welcome."

"Let me wash your hair?"

John ducked his head, looking at Jim through his lashes. "Will you please wash my hair?"

Jim smiled, pouring some into his hand and tilting his head back, working the soap into his hair. "Always wanted to do this."

John let his eyes fall closed, enjoying the feel of his fingers in his short locks. "Always wanted someone to do it to me."

"Well I am so glad to be the first," he whispered, tilting his head back into the water.

"First for many things, you are."

"Oh?" Jim asked, cocking a brow.

John made a noise of agreement as Jim rinsed his hair. "Before that night in the basement... I'd never been penetrated."

Jim's brows rose. "Really?"

John wiped the water from his eyes. "Yes."

Jim had something like guilt flash through his eyes. "I..." He pursed his lips. "Sorry I wasn't...nicer."

John cupped his jaw. "It's alright. You'll have plenty of time to make up for it."

Jim glanced at the bandage on his chest. Sentiment. "Doesn't make me less sorry."

John kissed him, parting his lips slowly, sweet and tender. "It's alright. I asked you to do it, and I enjoyed it."

Jim kissed him back, unused to this attention, but it was...it was nice. "Good."

John smiled. "May I wash your hair?"

Jim nodded, kissing his cheek.

John poured a little shampoo into his palms, trading places with Jim beneath the water. He began to work it through his black hair, smiling as he raised a lather. John massaged Jim's scalp, humming softly, marveling at the beauty of the man. _I love this. Who would have thought I'd end up in a shower with Jim Moriarty, sharing what I'm pretty sure was some kind of moment?_ He chuckled. _The look in his eyes, thought he was going to shove me to me knees. ...I also would have enjoyed that._

Jim shut his eyes and tilted his head back, leaning into his touch, sighing softly. "God, your hands are heaven."

John chuckled. "I'm glad you like them. Sometime... sometime, you should let me give you a massage." He began rinsing the soap, careful to keep it out of Jim's eyes. His eyes were drawn to the man's throat, and for a moment he forgot to breathe.

Jim growled softly. "Fuck, anytime, dear."

John placed his lips against Jim's adam's apple and sucked gently. Just for a few moments, groaning at the taste of his skin. "Tonight?"

Jim shivered a little, smiling. "Yes."

John grazed his teeth against him before pulling back. "Thank you."

Jim practically purred. "Oh, no, thank you."

John blushed and licked his lips. "Is after dinner too soon?"

Jim shook his head. "Absolutely not."

"Perfect." he wrapped his arms around Jim's waist and pulled him close, simply enjoying the feel of their bodies pressed together.

Jim grinned back, kissing him slowly, deeply. "You're wonderful," he whispered.

"So are you," he replied. He had planned on saying something more eloquent, but his stomach chose that time to rumble rather noticeably and, embarrassed, he buried his face in Jim's neck.

Jim smiled and giggled. "Food'll be here soon, love. Lemme hop out in case they show up, alright?" He kissed him again, getting out of the shower and grabbing a towel.

John watched him go, rather obviously staring, longing evident in his eyes. He washed his body as quickly as he could before getting out and drying off, walking out with his own towel.

Jim winked at him over his shoulder, stepping out to pull on some house pants just as the doorbell rang. "Food's here, dear!" He called, shuffling down the stairs and to the door, paying the girl holding the food. "Close your mouth, dear, it's unappealing," he remarked, chuckling when she blushed. "Thanks, doll." He turned around, knocking the door shut. He set the food on the coffee table, whistling.

John grinned as he came into the living room, still in his towel. "Where will we be dining?"

Jim chewed his lip, eyes roaming over him. "You stay like that and we're eating off you."

John chuckled. "Doesn't that defeat the purpose of the shower?"

"Who cares?" He said immediately, eyes still on John's body. He cleared his throat, shaking his head. "Uh, coffee table. Coffee table, yeah."

John blushed and grinned, moving to sit on the couch.

Jim slid onto his lap, John's order of dumplings in his hand. "Open up, baby."

John let out a small groan, shifting beneath him as he opened his mouth.

Jim offered it to him with a grin, licking his lips.

John took a bite, a whole one being a bit too much. His eyes fluttered closed, a soft moan sounding in his throat as he chewed and swallowed.

"Not sure what you like better, sex or food," he teased.

John blushed. "Both? Both is good."

Jim giggled. "Did you just quote the Road to El Dorado?"

John turned an even darker shade of red. "Um. Working in the clinic, we saw a lot of children, so we... we put cartoons on? And it's my favorite."

Jim kissed his cheek. "How someone can be this cute and this infuriatingly sexy is beyond me," he grinned, offering the other half.

John ate the rest of it, groaning. "Magic," he replied when his mouth was empty, grinning.

"You talking about you or the dumpling?" He giggled, offering him another.

John snorted. "Me." He licked his lips and took another bite, amazed at how much he was enjoying this. There was something almost erotic about being fed by a shirtless Jim sitting on his lap- alright, if he was being honest with himself, there was no almost.

Jim giggled. "You like this?"

John nodded. "I, um. I kind of do, yeah."

Jim kissed his forehead. "Good." He offered another piece.

John took another bite, shifting again, making another quiet noise of pleasure as he ate.

Jim kissed his neck. "You know, I do love this, but my food's getting cold," he winked, reluctantly sliding off his lap onto the cushion beside him.

John licked his lips. "Sorry. Better let you eat then." He dug into his noodles, noises renewed.

Jim picked up his own container, nudging the remote over to John.

John picked it up with a smile and opened the guide, scrolling through for something interesting. It was hard to choose. He finally settled on an adaptation of Perfume, leaning back to watch as he ate.

Jim leaned his head against his shoulder while they ate, smiling softly.

John smiled at the contact, engrossed in the movie, his meal, and the feel of Jim beside him. All in all, it had been a damned good day.

"You know, I don't think I've had a fay this good in a long while."

John looked over at him, arching an eyebrow. "Really? Spot of murder, shower, and dinner?" He pressed a kiss to his forehead. "I'm glad you think it was good. I do too."

Jim thumbed his chin. "You're the difference, honey."

John blushed. "Really?"

Jim nodded. "Sure, I kill people, shower and eat all the time, but you...No, I don't get this kind of thing."

John hummed softly and set his carton down, wrapping his now-free arm around his waist. "You get it now."

Jim grinned against his chest. "Good. I'm glad. I want it."

John ran his tongue over his teeth, making sure they were clean. "Can I ask you a question?"

Jim nodded, setting his food down and looking up at him. "Sure."

"You... didn't expect this, did you?"

Jim frowned. "Didn't expect what?"

"This. Sitting on the sofa, watching a movie, just... relaxing. With me. Did you?"

"Being normal with someone, no. Never."

"Hm." He pulled Jim a little closer, smiling. "Any other grand adventures planned this week? People to end, buildings to demolish?"

Jim nodded. "Oh god, yes. Of course."

"Good. I'm excited."

Jim kissed his cheek. "I knew you would be."

John was too full to finish his noodles, opting to save them for later. He was content to simply hold Jim close and wait for him to finish, mind buzzing with the eagerness to touch him and the excitement of his new occupation. I'll do better next time. You'll see.

Jim kissed under his chin and slipped off the couch, gathering the leftovers and going to put it in the fridge. "Right back, love. Would you like some wine?"

John nodded. "Yes, please."

Jim popped open a sixty year-old Merlot sitting on his counter, coming back with two glasses balanced in one hand with the bottle in the other. "Alright, not one of the best ones I have, but it'll do."

John grinned. "It's not like I'd notice." He took his glass from Jim, pausing a moment before setting it down on the table. "I still don't have pants on. Should I go get dressed? It seems... silly, now to be in just a towel."

Jim licked his lips. "No, no, you're just fine."

John blushed. "Alright. As long as you don't mind." He picked his glass, taking a small drink, marveling at how different his life had become over such a short amount of time.

Jim put a hand on his leg, sipping his drink. "Bit surreal, huh?"

"All of this? Yeah, it really is. I really didn't expect to acclimate so fast. I didn't expect you to be so good to me, either."

"What'd you think I was gonna do? Keep you in a cage?"

John blushed. "It seemed likely at the time. Honestly thought you'd make me stay down there, only let me out when you wanted me to do something."

Jim blinked. "Really am that mean, aren't I?"

John looked embarrassed. "All I knew was that you tortured me and left me in the dark. I didn't... I had no way to expect this. This is fantastic."

"You'd be surprised what people will allow themselves to admit in that much pain."

"What do you mean?"

Jim looked at him square in the face. "John, would you have admitted half the things I asked you on a normal day?"

John shook his head. "No, of course not. That... Makes sense."

"See? Not cruel just...pushing through barriers."

"I never said you were cruel, Jim," he said with a small smile. "Just that I really didn't see myself being allowed to leave."

Jim chuckled. "Well, boy were you wrong?"

John snorted. "Yes, I was, and I'm glad I was. I... I'm really enjoying this."

Jim looked up at him. "Good. I want you to."

John smiled and continued to drink.

"So, how long until you're completely healed up and ready to play, sweetheart?"

John licked his lips. "My medical training never really covered something like this, but my guess is tomorrow."

Jim grinned wickedly, reaching across the table to snatch up his phone. He pressed a button, eyes never leaving John. "Cancel it. Because I'm..." His eyes raked over him. "Busy, tomorrow. I'm fucking a captain's brains out, is what I'm doing, I'll get back to you." He tossed the phone on the chair to his far left and licked his lips. "There. We've got all day."

John pretended to pout. "Aw, no blood?"

"Sweet as sugar the first time," he reminded. "Then we get to...play."

John smiled. "I nearly forgot. Mmm, all day? I can't wait."

"All day, all night...all week..."

John groaned softly. "That sounds... exciting."

Jim chewed his lip. "Thought you might like that."

"Oh I will. Very, very much. Are we still on for that massage?"

"I almost forgot," Jim said, walking fingers up his chest. "Whenever you're ready for me. You rather have me upstairs on the bed?"

John nodded, watching his hand. "Yes, definitely the bed."

Jim stood, taking the wine with him with a wry grin. "Come and play," he chuckled, blowing him a kiss.

John took his glass and followed, casually tossing his towel to the floor before closing the bedroom door behind him.

Jim was laid out on the bed in a very small pair of pants, smiling up at him. He nodded to the dresser. "There's oil in the top drawer if you want it."

"Oh, I do," he replied, walking naked to the dresser. He picked up the bottle and returned to the bed, straddling Jim's hips. John drizzled a bit of oil between Jim's shoulder blades, watching it pool and drip, running along the lines of his muscles. With extremely warm hands he began to catch it, rubbing it into Jim's skin, working the tension out.

Jim 's eyes fluttered shut, groaning aloud as he arched back into his hands. "God, did you have those blessed or something?"

John snorted. "I've always had hot hands. Helps, being a doctor." He moved up to get the muscles of Jim's neck, thumbing beneath them, rocking his hips a little.

"Fucking beautiful is what it is," he moaned, shivering a little. "Fuck..." He reached back to grab John's thigh. "Don't do that while you're behind me, dear," he whispered.

John stilled. "Sorry," he said quietly, moving to kneel beside him instead. He worked his way down to his lower back, focusing on nothing else but making Jim feel good.

"Thank you, darling." He groaned again, his own hips jerking a little. "Tell me, Dr. Watson, you give out happy endings with your massages?"

"Mmm... for the right client."

"What dictates a 'right client'?"

John chuckled, working outward toward his hips. "You."

Jim keened softly. "Lucky me."

"Would you like me to do your legs as well?"

Jim nodded. "Yes, I think I would."

John placed his hands on the back of Jim's thighs and began to knead his flesh, caressing him carefully, adding oil as he needed it.

"Fuck!" He moaned, fingers clenched in the sheets.

John slowly moved lower, down the back of his legs, groaning at his reactions. "You're gorgeous," he said quietly. "Feet as well, or roll over?"

Jim giggled when he got to his knees. "That tickles-" He gasped. "And that tickles somewhere else." He licked his lips. "I'll roll over." He did so, aware of how much the pants were straining to keep him in.

John couldn't help but stare at him, heart pounding in his chest. He started at Jim's ankles, applying oil liberally, working his way up his legs lazily.

Jim grinned up at him, panting. "Ooh, fuck, that's good..."

John winked at him as he parted his thighs, moving up to his stomach, gently brushing his fingertips along Jim's very visible bulge.

Jim growled, falling back onto the pillows. "God, I'm getting your hands insured. Nothing is allowed to happen to those bad boys."

John chuckled darkly. "Maybe you should, with my line of work." He rubbed his thumbs over the muscles of Jim's abdomen, watching his skin shine from the oil. Up and up, moving to his chest, fighting the urge to play with the man's nipples.

Jim moaned. "Mm, John, you can touch me wherever you want," he gasped.

John was very, very, very glad for his permission. He rubbed Jim's nipples, rolling them between his fingers, watching them harden before he moved up to his shoulders. after a few more minutes, he leaned down and bit gently at Jim's bottom lip. "Still want that happy ending?"

Jim groaned and shivered under his hands, gasping harshly. "Fuck, oh..." His chest heaved, slicked in oil with his whole body singing for more. He bit right back at his mouth, licking at his lips. "You know I do."

John grinned and backed up, pressing his lips against the taut material stretched over his cock, mouthing him through his pants as he kneaded his hips.

Jim spat out John's name. "I want your hands, John..."

John looked up. "And you will have them, Mr. Moriarty. Please. May I do this a moment longer?"

Jim nodded, breathless. "Yes you may."

John hummed softly and resumed, loving the feel of the barrier beneath his lips. He didn't wait too long, forcing himself to stop and slip Jim's pants down to his thighs. He paused. "The oil's safe to use for this, right?"

Jim threaded fingers through his hair, tugging lightly to elicit a noise, grinning when he did. He moaned when his pants came down, eager for him. "Yeah, it's safe. It's fine. God, don't stop."

John grinned. "Perfect." He dripped a little oil down his shaft, wrapping his hand around Jim's cock and beginning to stroke.

Jim licked his lips, jerking into his hand. "Oh...heaven. Pure fucking heaven!"

John pulsed the muscles in his palm, reaching down with his free hand to cup Jim's balls. He was still slick with oil.

"SHIT! Oh, fuck, it's so much better with this. God your hands are so _perfect_..." He tried to part his legs further, grunting when his pants got in the way. "Mmn, John, take them off!" He whined.

John loved the way Jim was coming undone beneath him. He let go of his sac, tugging his pants down and tossing them off the bed. "There you are, darling," he cooed, picking up speed.

Jim sighed triumphantly, spreading his legs further apart and groaning, shivering. "God, thank you. John!"

John began to twist his hand on the upstroke, biting his lip as he looked at Jim through his lashes. His skin glistened as he rocked against the bed, arcing every now and then, his lips parted as he gasped. "Oh, fuck, look at you..." Both of his hands continued to work, coaxing him to come, drinking in his reactions.

Jim continued to moan, unraveling, thighs shaking just a little as he continued. "John, oh god, John, I'm close. So close, you perfect thing, you."

John lowered his body beside Jim, watching raptly, eager to see him finish. "Oh please, Mr. Moriarty," he said with a longing sigh. "Please come for me."

"Kiss me," Jim demanded, pupils blown, eyes dark, bucking up into his hand.

John moved up, his movement never ceasing as he caught Jim in a heated kiss, hungry and deep, squeezing gently as he stroked.

Jim came with a grunt in John's mouth, pulsing onto his hand and his lower belly. "F-fuck."

John grinned against his lips as he pulled back, leaning down to grab his discarded towel. "Good?" He began to clean him up, not sure if he was willing to risk the possible taste of the massage oil to licking Jim clean.

"Perfect," he grinned, gasping. "I'll rinse off in a minute." He laughed a little. "God, you're wonderful."

John blushed. "Mm, makes me feel good to hear you say that." He leaned back against the bed, naked and flushed, his own arousal evident. "Thought you were going to have a heart attack, I was a little worried for a second." he giggled.

Jim rolled on his side, looking down at his erection. "Thankfully I didn't. Now, what would you like me to do about that?"

John bit his lip. "Anything you want."

Jim whined. "Come on, now. Must be a request in there somewhere..."

John thought. "Kind of rude for me to make demands, isn't it? If I have to choose though... Will you touch me? I love listening to you speak, so as amazing at it feels I want your mouth free..."

Jim shook his head. "It's not a demand if you say 'please.'" He reminded, moving closer to him, body slicked and glistening. He snaked a finger up the inside of John's thigh, rubbing a slow circle at the joint where his hip and leg met. "I love watching you get hard for me, watching you blush and try to be shy when I know you're thinking about me fucking you until you can't scream anymore.”

John groaned, trembling at his touch. "I do. I think about it so much... God, I wanted you to fuck me right there on the table as the building burned."

"Wanted me to ram you against the tile in the bathroom. Don't think I don't notice, John. But don't you worry, tomorrow there'll be plenty of time for that. So many pretty toys to use on you, those things you told me about before, all ready for you." He slipped his hand to the base of his dick, squeezing and stroking lightly.

John gasped and arched into his touch. "Yes. Yes, god, I wanted that too. I love how captivating you are, how dominant. It feels so good to just let go and obey. After... Uhn, after the first time tomorrow, can we play with some of those things?"

“We're playing all day, remember, sweetheart?" He whispered, rolling his balls on his angular fingers. "And how I will adore watching you writhe and scream and sweat and plead for me. Going to be absolutely gorgeous, my darling."

John whimpered, knotting a fist in the sheets. "Oh, god, your hands feel so good... All day, mmm, won't be able to walk the next day." He leaned into Jim's pumping fist. "If I beg for you to make it rough, will you?"

Jim kept his touches near the head, watching him gleefully. "Anything you ask me, love. You want me fucking you so hard we break the goddamn headboard, I will."

John felt his eyes fluttering as Jim carefully stroked him. "Your two thousand dollar headboard? It'd be an honor." He licked his lips, practically purring. "Then again, we might want to save that for work..."

"Can always buy a new headboard," he purred. "Now, you want to talk semantics or are you going to let Jimmy work?"

John silenced himself, letting Jim work as he watched, utterly entranced.

"God, there isn't an inch of you I don't want in my mouth, John. Want to play with your nipples until they're numb, suck that scar from both sides, I want to make it so you can't walk straight for days, captain. How do you feel about getting spanked, huh?" He asked, one hand tracing and toying with his hole while the other stroked at a steady pace.

John let out a low moan, loving the attention. "If done right, I love spanking, just not... Not with a belt," he finished quietly.

Jim shook his head. "No, no, no, not with a belt. Just my hand, darling." He bit back an apology for what he'd done in the basement and kept going. "Watch that arse get nice and red under my hands, the noises you'll make. God the noise you make." He groaned, stroking him faster. "Take another crack at that vibrator I put on you, see if you can handle it turned up all the way. Oh, John, I've got so many surprises for you. Can't wait to tie you down to this..."

John rolled his hips, shuddering. "Oh, please, yes... Tie me down, just leave it there and watch me writhe..."

Jim giggled. "Got one I can put inside you too. Wonder how many times you'd come in half an hour..." He wondered, twisting his fingers around his head and stroking his slit.

John pressed his head back against the pillow, his back lifting from the mattress. "Oh, f-fuck yes." He could feel his own wetness, smearing on Jim's thumb as he rubbed it against him. "Anything, anything you'll to me..."

Jim grinned, dipping his head to lick his open slit once. "Ooh, sweetheart, would you jerk off for me if I asked you to?"

John nodded, whimpered at the heat from his tongue. "Yes, yes, yes I would."

Jim hummed low in his throat, jerking harder, faster. "Should tie you up and touch myself in front of you. Can't touch or play, just have to watch..."

John whined, utterly unraveling. He could picture it, Jim out of reach, unable to touch himself as the black-eyed man stroked and moaned and came across him... "Please," he whispered, "please do.”

Jim grinned against John's ear. "You have to come for me, first," he whispered. "I need you to come for me, baby."

John licked his lips. "I'm close, fuck, I am." He rocked into his hand, eyes falling closed as he clung to the mental image of Jim fucking himself back on his fingers. "Jim," he whined, "Jim, oh, fuck... JIM!" He pulsed over his hand, spilling onto his stomach as he gasped his name.

Jim kissed his chest, cleaning him off with the same towel he'd used. "Good boy."

John grinned and fell limp against the bed, sighing happily. "I don't know why. But I like that."

Jim chuckled, pulling John close to him. "Like what?"

John blushed and buried his face in Jim's chest. "When you praise me like a pet," he whispered.

Jim smiled. "Really? Thought you'd hate that, I really did."

"We're learning all sorts of things about me, aren't we?"

Jim kissed his pinked cheeks. "Yes, we are. I like it."

"I'm glad." He rolled over and lifted his wine glass from the nightstand, taking a drink and licking his lips. "Tomorrow, may I pour wine on you and lick it off?" It was a fleeting thought, but one he really latched on to.

Jim grinned. "I like the way you think. Yes, so long as we use the cheap shit."

"Mmm. Alright. Thank you."

"You are very welcome."

John finished his glass and settled against the bed, draping one arm over Jim's waist. It was almost protective, but mostly he simply wanted him close.

Jim noticed the gesture, wrapping arms around his neck. "Trying to keep someone from getting me, captain?"

John made a small noise. "Told me my duties included body. 'M guarding your body."

Jim smiled, eyes warm. "Thank you."

John returned the expression. "Would you be mad if I wanted to sleep?"

Jim shook his head. "Absolutely not." He kissed his cheek. "I'm gonna rinse off real quick. I'll be right back." He hopped out of bed and went into the bathroom, turning on the shower and hopping in to get all of the oil off.

John sighed happily and curled up, pulling the blanket up to his chin. He knew he should be careful, should be cautious, but he was throwing himself headfirst into whatever this was with no reservations- and he loved it. Smiling a little, he slowly drifted off to sleep, hoping the day came quickly.

Jim came back in clean and dry, smiling at the man sleeping in his bed. He looked beautiful, peaceful and happy. Look at that, Jimmy, you can make someone happy. He climbed in beside him, pulling him into his arms with a sigh. God, he was warm. His eyes drifted shut and he followed him to sleep in just a few moments.


	6. Closer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first part of Jim and John's marathon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I haven't italicized the internal monologues, and I apologize, but I spent an hour editing this chapter and THEN THE INTERNET CUT OUT. So it didn't save. I'll fix that when I get to a place with more stable internet.
> 
> Jim and I make no apologies for the awesome sex contained in here. None whatsoever.

John slept through the night, dreams mercifully blank. Funny, that, he found himself thinking as he came back to consciousness with sunlight filtering through the windows. I only sleep through the night here. He rubbed sleep from his eyes and pressed a chaste kiss to Jim's chest, which he'd found himself curled against as he woke. Not wanting to wake him, he simply watched him sleep, planning to snap his eyes away if he started to wake.

"You know, you could always take a picture," Jim muttered suddenly about ten minutes later.

John blushed and buried his face. "Sorry. You just. You looked so relaxed."

Jim chuckled, opening his eyes and looking down at him. "It's alright." He lifted his chin, still smiling. "You're cute."

John smiled back, stretching up to plant a kiss on his cheek. "And you're beautiful."

Jim chuckled. "Thank you."

John hummed softly and ran his hand along the curve of Jim's side. "Did you sleep alright?"

Jim nodded, carding fingers through his hair. "Slept wonderfully. I kind of like this."

John made a pleased noise and pressed closer against him. "I love this. I haven't slept this well in a very long time."

Jim rubbed soothing circles on his back. "I've noticed. No night terrors or anything."

"Mm, no, not since the first night. Thankfully." He lowered his head and began to kiss along Jim's collarbone.

Jim shivered when he touched a certain spot. "Must be a good influence on you..."

John noticed his reaction. "Must make me feel safe," he whispered, before focusing his full attention on the spot, sucking gently at his skin.

Jim 's eyes fell shut with a cut-off moan, leaning up into his mouth. "Now that's funny," he whispered. "Me making someone feel safe...”

John grazed his teeth against him, pulling him closer. "You make me feel a lot of things."

Jim smiled, shuddering. "Mmn...Do tell..."

"You make me feel... safe. Stronger. Younger. Happy. Sexy.”

"Don't know where you get it that you're old..."

John chuckled softly and drew a finger down Jim's chest. "War ages a man prematurely."

"Experience and age aren't always the same thing," Jim whispered.

John kissed his chest. "True, but it's hard to feel young with a psychosomatic limp and a hole in your arm." He rested his leg atop Jim's, wrapping himself around him. "How do you want to start the day?"

"You've got a lot of life left, John. Trust me." Jim breathed out, kissing down his neck. "Worshipping this body," he whispered, trailing fingers down his chest. "How about I tie you up and we go from there?"

John shivered. "I would like that very, very much, I think."

Jim grinned, kissing his cheek. He slipped back to open the dresser, taking out the heavy silk scarves. He tied them around his wrists, looping them through the headboard. "John?" He whispered. "How do you feel about being gagged?"

John had honestly never thought about it. "I'm willing to try most things once, he replied, enjoying the feel of his bonds.

"If you don't like it, snap at me, okay?" He asked, cupping his cheek.

John nodded. "I will."

Jim went to the drawer again, taking out a few different designs of gags and setting them beside him. He picked up a ball gag. "Alright, open up."

John did as he was told, opening his mouth as wide as he could, hoping it would fit.

Jim gently guided it into his mouth, moving to close the strap. "Mm, no. Not going to work." He He took it from his lips and tried the bridle, grinning. "There we go," he grinned, strapping it in.

John felt more comfortable with the bridle gag, looking up at Jim, eager and waiting to see what he'd do next.

Jim sat back, out of John's reach, grinning. He ran fingers down his chest and hips, humming softly. "You wouldn't believe how hot you look like this...”

John took a deep breath, watching his hands travel. He whined around the gag, eyes wide.

Jim tweaked his nipples with a groan, hands caressing his skin all the way down to cup his groin. He moaned, eyes shut. "Tied down, unable to touch me, writhing like that..."

John lifted his hips, staring as he squeezed his hand just a little. Oh, fuck. Oh, god, look at him. So fucking gorgeous, and sexy, and... ugh, perfect, bloody perfect...

Jim started to stroke himself. "Mmn, god, I like to think about those hands of yours. How hot and soft they are. Feel so much better than doing it myself."

John tugged against the scarves, rocking his hips, panting through his nose. Jim was driving him mad- he could not touch, he could not speak, he could only watch. God, it was the sexiest thing he'd ever seen, and for John, that was definitely saying something.

Jim stroked himself faster, one hand back in his hair. He tilted his head back, rocking into his fist. "Oh, John, just thinking about the way you touch me..."

John groaned, body shaking with need. His eyes were wide, pupils huge and dark as he drank in the show. God, I'd do so much more, so much more if you let me...

Jim licked his lips, gasping. "Do you want to touch me, John?" He moaned.

John moaned, making a desperate noise as his eyes traveled down his body.

Jim moved so he was straddling him, cupping his balls as he stroked harder. He choked out his name. "Want to feel me against you? Feel my body, huh?"

John flexed his muscles, trying so hard to reach him. He nodded, eyes wide, whimpering and keening and undulating beneath him.

Jim leaned so his face was right above his, hips hovering over John's still stroking himself. "F-fuck, John, would you like me to come on you?"

John nodded eagerly.

Jim grinned, forehead falling against his. "Fuck, fuck, FUCK! JOHN!" He came onto his stomach, shuddering and groaning. "Oh, that was beautiful."

John watched him finish, groaning around the bridle. Fuck, he's gorgeous...

Jim gasped against him a moment. "Now...what to do with you?"

John swallowed and managed a shrug. Anything, god, anything, please.

Jim smirked. "Alright." He reached in the bedside table and pulled out the same vibrator he'd used the day before. He slid it onto him, setting the remote beside his leg. He went to the drawer again, taking out a longer vibrator, a bottle of lubricant in the other hand, settling between his legs. "Ready for some fun?" He grinned, slicking his fingers.

John nodded again, eyes wide. No way that's going to fit...

Jim kissed his thigh. "Trust me, love." He whispered, working fingers against his hole.

John shivered, worried it might hurt. God, he wanted Jim. He wanted Jim to play with him, he wanted the sweet sex he was promised, he wanted to be fucked hard enough to break the bed, but the nervousness still lurked in the back of his mind. Their last encounter was... violent. Incredible, fuck, it felt good, but it also felt like he was dying, torn apart... He focused on breathing easily, keeping his rhythm, staying calm. Today will not hurt unless I ask. Today will not hurt unless I ask. I want this. I want this. I want him.

Jim stopped, looking at him a moment. He shook his head, moving everything away, untying his arms and undoing the gag, pushing it all off onto the floor. He spoke over John's protests. "You don't trust me," he said softly. "You don't, John, and I can't do this until you do." He ducked his head, kissing him. Slow, deep, sweet. "So I'm showing you that you can."

John licked his dry lips and shook his head. "Jim. I trust you. I do. I'm just nervous."

Jim shook his head. "If you're nervous you don't trust me, love." He held his face and the small of his back, still kissing him with slow, languid touches.

John kissed him back, eyes falling closed as he placed his hands on Jim's back. He was warm to the touch, still flushed, and John loved the way his muscles moved beneath his skin. "Please," he said quietly. "Please, Jim, don't let me ruin this."

"How could you possibly ruin anything?" Jim whispered, still pressing slow, deep kisses on his lips. "We said sweet and I forgot. Now I'm fixing it." He ran fingers through his hair, pressing kisses along his jaw and his throat.

John pressed close to Jim's body, moaning softly at every touch of his lips. "Mmm... I'm glad you remembered," he said quietly, massaging his lower back.

Jim slid his hands down his sides to his his hips, arching lightly into his hands. He kept his face close to him. "So am I." He whispered, back to his lips. A fire welled between them, burning low in Jim's stomach, holding his face, running fingers through his hair.

John rocked slowly against him, finding it increasingly hard to breath. Jim's body felt so good against him, so soothing, and he felt his anxiety fading. He was good, so good, and he'd promised to take care of him. "One second," he whispered, reaching between them to pull the bandage on his chest away. Jim. "Mmm. Better." He tugged gently at Jim's lip with his teeth, moaning low in his throat.

Jim smiled weakly at him, pressing kisses to the letters. "All mine," he breathed. The tips of his fingers slid up the insides of his arms and up his neck. He hooked one of John's legs over his hip, those same slicked fingers pressing and teasing again. He kissed him slow and deep, gasping a little with the taste of him strong on his tongue.

John pressed back against his hand, his thigh tightening around him. "Yours," he breathed. "All yours." He ran a hand through Jim's hair as he licked into his mouth, groaning at the taste of him as his heart pounded in his ears. "I want you," he whispered. "I want you more than anything."

Jim smiled gently, surrounded in warmth and tenderness. "Well today is your lucky day, because I'm right here." He slipped a finger inside of him, keeping their eyes locked.

John felt his breath hitch, those dark eyes holding his own captive as he pressed inside of him. And while it was uncomfortable for a second, it faded into a gentle pleasure. He spread his legs wider, whimpering quietly.

Jim "Shh, it's alright, I've got you," he whispered. He waited for John to adjust before he started moving in and out of him. "Mm, darling..."

John curved his back, eager for more. He knew they had to take it slow, but fuck, it was hard to keep that in mind as Jim slowly stretched him.

Jim peppered kisses down his throat and his shoulder, slowly adding another finger. "God, aren't you gorgeous?" He breathed, pressing his cheek against his.

John licked his lips, fucking himself on Jim's fingers. "Mmm, god..." He nuzzled against Jim's cheek, his carefully trimmed stubble scratching him gently. "You're incredible, Jim," he whispered.

Jim "So are you, my darling," his voice was soft, accent thicker because of it. He kissed behind his ear, suckling at his earlobe. "Beautiful, beautiful John." He scissored his finger in and out of him slowly as John met them.

John was opening for him, meeting every thrust, eyes rolling back in his head. "More," he said softly. "Please, more.."

Jim added a third, rocking them into him, watching his face, eyes dark and tender.

John groaned, pulling Jim down to claim his lips in a deep kiss. He kept moving his hips, helping Jim spread him, eager to feel him.

Jim kissed him back, hard, deep. "Tell me when you're ready, love," he whispered, smoothing his free hand over his body.

"I'm ready," John said softly, licking his tongue across Jim's lip. "I'm ready for you."

Jim sunk his lips into his neck, retracting his fingers. He slicked himself sucking gently at his pulse, lost in the warmth of his skin. "Baby..." He breathed, slowly edging his way into him.

John wrapped both his arms around Jim's neck, humming softly as he pressed in. He groaned, wrapping his free leg around the man's waist, moving to meet him. "Oh... Oh, Jim..." John swallowed, already panting, able to feel every inch of Jim as his body parted for him.

Jim kissed him softly, slipping hands behind his back. "Tell me when you're ready for me to move, my darling," he whispered, sucking at his neck.

John made pleased noises, giving himself time to adjust while Jim licked and nipped at his throat. "Please move," he half-whined. "I want to feel you."

Jim slowly started to slide in and out of him, feeling him react underneath him. He stayed close to him. He felt amazing, so close and soft and sweating. Beautiful, more intimate than anything he'd ever experienced. "Careful, John, I might fall for you."

John timed his hips to meet Jim's, their pace calm and soothing, and John was finding it harder and harder to breathe. Jim was intoxicating, utterly consuming him as they rocked together. "I wouldn't be far behind you," he said quietly, nuzzling against him. God help me, I could love this man.

Jim smiled a little. He felt warm, soothed, safe, calm...human. It was strange, that this man could do this to him. God, it was wonderful. Never thought it could be, but it was. "Okay," he whispered, rolling into him. He grunted, choking on air a bit, pressing his forehead against his with a soft moan.

John lowered his arms to circle around Jim's back, pressing his warm fingertips into his skin. "Uhn, Jim..." He rolled his hips, pulling him closer, arching his back as he was filled over and over. "You feel so good, Jim. God, you do."

Jim gasped, licking his lips and cooing his name. "Oh, fuck, so do you. So beautiful, John..." He whimpered, rocking into him faster.

John was grateful for the increased pace, moaning loudly as their hips connected. "Will... Will you touch me, Jim?"

Jim slipped his hand between them, kissing softly as he stroked him in time with his thrusts.

John began to fall apart beneath him, Jim's name the only word he could utter. He shifted his hips, and Jim's next thrust brushed against his nerves. He cried out, shaking as his vision blurred. "Jim, oh god, there, please, there!"

im angled his hips and drove into his body over and over. "Mmn, John..." He grunted, lacing their fingers together with his free hand, squeezing lightly.

John was a little surprised by the tenderness of the action, but he loved it. Every thrust hit just right, cutting off his ability for speech. He writhed against the bed, gasping and moaning, every now and then able to whimper Jim's name as he held his hand. John was getting close, but he didn't want to come too soon- not when it felt this good, not when it was this romantic.

Jim never thought anything could be this pure. Not with him, never, but this...This was perfect. He kept his strokes timed with his thrusts, moving harder and faster still. "God, John!" He gasped, shuddering. He kissed him, deep and sloppy now. "Christ, you're perfect."

John kissed him back, eager, letting him pull the breath from his lungs. "I'm close," he whispered, almost drugged on the bliss of their sex, wishing it would never end. He didn't want to come down from this, from the warmth, from the feeling of perfect contentment he found with Jim. "You... uhn, Jim, you're... greatest thing to ever happen to me..." He pressed their foreheads together as he began to tremble, the muscles in his legs tensing around Jim's hips.

Jim groaned and rocked into him harder. He laughed a little, breathless. "That's a-a new one," he breathed, grunting. "You can come for me, sweetheart." He was so lost in him, the feel of his skin, the taste of his sweat, absolutely everything sweet, beautiful, John.

John was too close to hold back, curving his back as the pressure built. "Jim... Jim, Jim, oh god... JIM!" His cock pulsed, spilling over their stomachs as he came with a shout, his muscles tightening around Jim as pleasure wracked his body.

Jim moaned as John came, the tightness pulsing around his arousal and he shot inside of him, moaning. "FUCK!" He came deep inside of him, crying out, his name in his ear with a whine. "John..." He collapsed over him, kissing his face and his neck. "My beauty...”

John loved the way Jim felt inside him, loved the way he filled him, loved the way he showered him with kisses and praises. It won't take much for me to love him. It really won't. "God, Jim, that was beautiful." He nuzzled against him, sweating and panting, smiling softly. "Wonderful... I can't... I can't even begin to describe it." John felt warm, inside and out, his chest swollen with something awfully akin to joy.

Jim smiled at him, pressing their foreheads together. "Neither can I, and I'm usually pretty good at that sort of thing."

John grinned. "Mmm. We're in agreement then." He wrapped his arms around him, kissing him softly. "And now. When we've recovered." He drew a finger along Jim's spine. "You have free reign to do whatever you want to me. I think I can handle it now."

Jim shivered a little, caressing his cheek. "I'm sorry I tried to jump in too fast."

John leaned into his touch. "It's alright. I should have spoken up."

"I want you to promise me right here, right now. Before we do anything else I need you to swear to me if you're uncomfortable in any way you're going to tell me. I will not hurt you this way, I refuse, alright?"

John swallowed and nodded. "Would a safe word suffice?"

"Promise me and then we'll get a safe word."

John cupped his jaw, looking him straight in the eyes. "Jim. I promise you, if I'm uncomfortable with what is proposed, or if I get uncomfortable during, I will tell you immediately."

Jim kissed him. "Thank you very much. Now, about that safe word..."

"Cinnamon," he said immediately.

Jim laughed. "Had that one ready, did we?"

John blushed. "Well, I've... I've had to have one before."

Jim might have been jealous. "Oh?"

John nodded sheepishly. "I, um. Dated a woman, about fifteen years ago. It was my safe word. I didn't have to use it. I was told it was a good one, very clear and impossible to confuse with dirty talk. So I held on to it, just in case. But then I focused on uni, got my medical degree, joined the army... and I was simply too tired when I came home to be adventurous."

Jim was...yes, definitely jealous. "Mm. Such a shame."

John cocked his head. "Is... is that okay?"

Jim traced John's lips. "I'm a very...possessive man, John."

John shivered. "I'm all yours, Jim. You just have to look down to see that. Want me to choose a different one?"

"No," he replied cooly, eyes dark. "I want to make you forget where that word came from. Now tell me what you want next."

John had never heard something so incredibly arousing in... Well, since Jim came on his chest. New benchmarks every second, it seemed. "I want you to tie me down again."

Jim nodded, taking the scarves off the floor and wrapping them around his wrists again. He tied tight, grinning. "Now what, love?"

John licked his lips. "The vibrators, please."

Jim smiled, kissing his neck. "Yes, sir." He took them from the floor, slipping the first device on him and slicking the second again.

John watched him work, no sign of the apprehension from before. He wanted this, and he trusted Jim. He'd proven himself tenfold, especially with the promise.

Jim was relaxed now that John was, picking up the remote. "Ready?"

John nodded. "God, yes."

Jim flicked it on, grinning.

John gasped, lifting his hips from the mattress. "O-oh, fuck!"

Jim moaned in his throat, pressing the other to his hole, massaging his perineum to relax him.

John whimpered, pressing down against the rubber. "Should go in- mmf, easy. Still... still open. And wet."

Jim grinned. "Oh, I know. Just taking it right in for me, John. You want it that much?" He purred, twisting as it went in.

John cried out, trembling. "Yes, yes, I do!" His cock twitched, sensitive from the constant stimulation of the vibrator.

Jim smiled when it was in, flicking the switch on it as well.

John contorted around the devices, tugging on the scarves as he moaned and writhed on the bed. "Fuck! Oh, god, Jim, Jim! Yes!"

Jim moaned. "Fuck, look at you..." He cooed, turning it up.

John whimpered, twisting, starting to sweat as vibrations wracked his body. "F-fuck, Jim, so... so good, m-more, please..."

Jim turned up the dial on the remote, kissing the inside of his thighs.

John wasn't sure how much more he could take. Every nerve in his body was singing, he couldn't hold still- he was still sensitive, and oh fuck, it made it even better.

Jim licked his lips moaning aloud, shuddering. He watched his body move, hard already. "God, you see what you do to me?"

John could see him, staring, ready to go already. "Mmm... Think I'm... gonna come again," he panted.

Jim turned the device up as high as it would go, pupils blown, cheeks pinked just looking at him.

John saw stars, the pleasure making him numb as he came across his stomach, still writhing as the devices shook inside and around him.

Jim let them keep going for a minute, watching the oversensitivity wrack John's body before he shut them off.

John fell limp against the mattress, gasping for breath, able to feel them long after Jim turned them off. "O-oh my god, Jim..."

"How was that?" Jim whispered, kissing his neck.

“I-incredible, jesus...”

Jim smiled. "Good. Good, that's wonderful."

John leaned his head back, still flushed. "Might... might need a break."

Jim nodded, untying his wrists. "Take all the time you need, my love."

John hesitated. "Will you do something for me?"

Jim nodded. "Anything."

John cracked his neck and got on all fours, sucking gently at the spot on Jim’s collar bone. "Fuck me again." He knew he wouldn't be able to finish, but Jim was hard and he wanted to feel him again.

Jim got on his back as John's mouth made his eyes flutter. "You...alright," he breathed, kissing him hard. Christ... He got behind him, pressing down on the small of his back and plunging inside of him. "Oh, god, so wet and open for me, John."

John moaned loudly, still tingling as Jim pressed into him. He curved his back further down, giving Jim a better angle as he rocked back against him. "Jim, Jim..."

"Oh, god, you're so fucking hot," he grunted, rocking almost immediately. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

John "Mmmm, fuck- harder, Jim!" He wanted him, wanted to be fucked rough and messy, wanted to be left dripping with his come as they relaxed on the mattress. And he knew Jim would do that for him. Because he wanted it just as badly.

"Want to feel my come leak out of you?" Jim growled, bucking into him hard. Their skin slapped together, hands tight on his hips. "Fuck, all mine, completely mine, John..."

John gasped. "God, yes, I want you to fill me again and again..." The tone in his voice sent heat straight to his groin, and god, though he felt like he'd never be able to come again his body was responding. "All yours, every fucking inch of me, Jim. All fucking yours..."

"Goddamn right you are," he snarled, riding him hard. "Fuck, John..." He moaned, grabbing a fistful of his hair and tugging.

John cried out, curving his neck back into Jim's hand. "Uh, fuck, yes, Jim!" He slammed his hips backward, eager to feel him, close to coming again (which he didn't fucking think was possible). And god, he could come just from this. "Jesus, Jim, don't stop, please!"

Jim's hips jerked alarmingly fast, gasping and moaning against his back, shuddering. "Ready again, John? Fuck, how am I supposed to keep up with you?" He moaned, bucking into him. "Close, so close already because of you, baby."

John didn't even try to stifle his noise as he came across the sheets, practically screaming Jim's name as his muscles tightened.

Jim came right behind him, buried inside of him. He collapsed in a sweating mess on the bed, gasping and chuckling.

"Oh, fuck," John giggled. "I might be spent for the day."

Jim whined. "Already?"

John blushed. "For now."

Jim pulled him into his arms. "I suppose I'll find some way to cope."

John sighed. "God, you're wonderful."

Jim smiled softly. "Thank you. So are you, dear."

John pressed a kiss to Jim's chest. "I mean it, you know. You are the best thing to ever happen to me."

Jim smiled a little. "That's new."

"But it's true." He held him close, smiling. "I care about you."

Jim thumbed his cheek. "I care about you too. Just...the best thing that's ever happened to you. I never expected that."

"And I never expected to wind up here, but here we are. And I honestly don't think I've been happier in... ever.”

Jim 's smile grew. "Yeah?"

John returned the expression. "Yeah. Nothing comes close to this, not even a little."

Jim chuckled. "Well how about that."

John blushed. "Never going to be able to get rid of me now."

"I think I can deal with that too," he smiled, kissing his cheek.

John hummed softly and closed his eyes. "I'm very, very grateful we still have leftovers," he breathed. "When I can move, I'm going to heat them up."

Jim kissed him. "I'll get the food, you stay put." He said, sliding off the bed and leaving to go to the kitchen, still naked.

John watched him walk away, obviously admiring his sweat-slicked body. Well, shit. I might already love him.

Jim came back upstairs a few minutes later with their reheated leftovers. "Alright, there you are, love."

John smiled. "Mm, my hero. Thank you." He began to eat, his usual nosies much more silent than usual, though his was grinning.

Jim ate as well, glancing up at him. "Quiet today."

John blushed. "Figured I should save my noises for the fun stuff," he said with a soft chuckle.

Jim kissed his cheek. "Since when is listening to you moan not 'fun stuff'?"

John hummed softly. "Don't want to moan myself hoarse so early, though, do I?" He rested his head against Jim's shoulder, eating until his carton was empty. "Mmmm. God, I could eat that forever and die a happy man." He kissed Jim's neck and settled back against the bed.

"Maybe I do," he grinned, kissing the top of his head. He giggled, finishing his own food. "I'll bet you could."

John curled against him, with a sigh. "I never believed I would utter these words, but eating's boring." He smiled. "Can we take a bath?"

Jim chuckled. "Yes we can." He stood, kissing his nose. "Be right back." He slipped into the bathroom, running the water, adding bubbles, making sure it was right before he came back in and scooped John into his arms.

John gasped and giggled, curling against Jim as they crossed the floor into the bathroom. He was lowered into the warm water and he couldn't help but groan appreciatively. "Spoiling me, you are. I like it."

"I'll spoil you every day for the rest of your life," he whispered, slipping in behind him.

John chuckled. "I'm going to enjoy that." He leaned back against him. "Mmm. Some day, we should do this again. But not with water."

Jim cocked his head. "Just sit naked in a bathtub?"

John chuckled. "Different liquid." He was suddenly very self-conscious, despite knowing he had no reason to be ashamed in front of the man he confessed his darkest desires to. "Blood," John replied quietly. "And sometime, also tea."

Jim chewed his lip. "You are very creative darling, I love it. And I think I can at least manage the first one without a fuss."

John giggled. "I love how blood is the easy one to come by. You're perfect."

"What? You mean you don't know someone who's blood you'd like to bathe in?"

John grinned. "No one living. Yet. Told you, I'm not a grudge-bearing guy. Usually."

"That's alright." Jim kissed his throat. "I have a list."

John moaned softly. "At least one of us is prepared," he said with a grin.

"Always," he replied, sucking at the hinge of his jaw.

John stretched his head to give him room, making a pleased noise in his throat. "I love your lips," he said quietly, "especially when they're against me."

Jim smiled against his skin. "Good. I plan on them being on you quite a bit."

John pressed closer to Jim, rocking his hips slowly. "Are we working tomorrow?"

"Might. Waiting on a text tomorrow morning," he muttered, gently pushing John forward a little, eyes glinting hungrily as they looked at the scar on his back. He ducked his head, dragging his tongue over the skin in a long stripe.

John shuddered, the breath leaving his lungs. "O-oh, christ, yes."

Jim grinned. "So it works both ways," he breathed. His hands slid up John's chest, fingertips finding the entry wound while he sucked his shoulder.

John briefly wondered if dying would have felt half that bloody good. He let out a steady stream of unintelligible noises, whimpering and shaking as his most sensitive areas were stimulated in tandem. "F-fuck, oh fuck, Jim, that's fucking incredible, don't stop, please..."

"You know I wouldn't," he whispered, biting lightly on one side, scratching on the other. "You make such wonderful noises, love."

John felt as though his stomach was doing flips, unable to sit still as Jim nipped and scratched and caressed. "Mmmmm," he whined, eyes rolling back in his head. "S-some day, not today, should... should make me come, just from this..."

Jim paused. "You want me to stop?"

John shook his head. "I just begged you not to stop, don't you dare."

"Well it was my full intention to make you come from this, but you told me not to..."

"I don't think I could finish from this today, is all, no matter how good it feels." He chuckled. "It's going to take more and more as the day goes on."

"Oh, well then..." Jim dropped his hand in the water, wrapping his hand around his prick and stroking lightly.

John arched into him with a soft whimper, hard again as Jim worked both his sensitive scar tissue and his cock.

Jim grinned. "That better?" He breathed, tracing both scars with his tongue and his finger while he jerked him off.

John was shaking, trembling, gasping for breath. "F-fuck, yes, don't stop, please, feels so fucking good, Jim, uhn..."

Jim "I've got you," he whispered, stroking him in earnest now, mouth latched onto his skin and moaning at the taste of him.

John didn't take long to fall over the edge; He could go for an hour or more on a normal day, but this was not a normal day. This was a day of indulgence, and he wasn't young anymore. "C-close," he whined. "Fuck, I'm sorry, it's just so god damned good..."

"Mm, don't you apologize for being this fucking gorgeous, John," he whispered, stroking harder, biting at the scar again. "You can come, baby."

John jerked his hips upwards, coming with a wordless gasp, Jim's teeth finally pushing him over the edge. He sank back against him, catching his breath. "Never... never been touched on the exit wound," he panted. "Fuck."

Jim kissed the spot and John's neck. "Well, they didn't know what they were missing, did they?" He grinned.

John blushed. "Haven't, um. Not since getting back in London."

Jim balked. "Really?"

John swallowed. "Not for lack of trying, believe me," he chuckled.

"What made you turn them down?"

"Um. I didn't. Sherlock chased them all off before we got to that point."

"Jealous bastard."

"Means more for you though."

Jim grinned. "Mm, yes it does."

John relaxed in the warm water, pulling Jim's arms around him with a content sigh.

Jim smiled and held him, kissing his hair.

"Mmmm. I love it when you do that."

"Kiss your hair?"

John nodded. "It's comforting."

Jim repeated the action. "I'm glad."

John smiled. "What should we do when we're done in here?"

Jim grinned back. "You ever lick chocolate off someone, sweetie?"

John shifted between Jim's legs. "Mmm... No. Always wanted to, though. The closest I've done is jello shots off a librarian's torso at a party in uni."

Jim kissed up his neck. "Well today's your lucky day, darling.”

John licked his lips. "What kind of chocolate?"

Jim chuckled. "The kind you lick off someone."

John snorted. "Not what I mean. You can lick every kind of chocolate off someone. Ever felt it melt in your hands? Were you thinking syrup, or soft milk chocolate, or- I've thought about this a lot."

Jim giggled. "Syrup." He breathed, turning his chin and kissing his cheek. He turned his chin, kissing him tenderly. "If that's alright," he whispered.

John shivered. "Of course it is. The list of things I wouldn't lick off of you is very small," he replied, blushing.

Jim smiled back. "That's wonderful to know, my darling."

John turned a little more, kissing against Jim's throat.

Jim hummed, eyes fluttering shut, , holding his cheek. "Your mouth, John..."

John chuckled, moving up to bite at his jaw. "Like it?"

"I adore it. I think I might have been put on this earth for it..."

"Mmm, for my mouth? Funny, I thought you were put on this earth to bring it to its knees..." He bit gently at Jim's bottom lip.

“Right now, I'd just be satisfied with bringing you to yours, sweetheart."

John licked his lips and turned completely, drawing his knees up beneath him as he faced Jim. "That can be arranged, Mr. Moriarty." He dropped a wink at him before taking a deep breath and ducking beneath the water, taking Jim's length between his lips.

Jim gasped, gripping the sides of the tub with a moan. "Oh! Christ, John, you sexy thing...Fuck..."

John sucked hard, not wasting precious breath on playing with him. He bobbed his head, cheeks hollowed, until he saw stars. Then, and only then, did he come up for air. John pulled Jim into a rough kiss before repeating the action, filling his lungs and returning to his prick, massaging his muscle with his lips.

Jim was gasping and whining. He writhed hard under his mouth, breathless when he kissed him, so hard and deep. He longed for more, and god, did he get it. His hands slid under the water while he whimpered, running fingers through his hair and gasping.

John made no noise, though he let his tongue speak for him. G-O-O-D-?

"Oh, you naughty thing, yes. Yes, fuck yes!"

John started to get dizzy, and broke the surface again. He breathed deeply, grinning, before going under once more. C-O-M-E-F-O-R-M-E. He used one hand to fondle his sac, eager to bring him off.

Jim watched John when he came out of the water, eyes dark and hungry. "John-" He groaned when he went under the water, groaning. "Fuck! FUCK!" He whimpered. His back arched when he heard the words, releasing on command, shooting down his throat. "Oh, god, John, yes!"

John swallowed every drop, coming up with a grin. "Mmm.”

"That-that was incredibly sexy," he gasped, limp against the tub.

John nestled against his chest, feeling proud. "I'm very, very fucking glad."

Jim grinned, running hands up and down his back. "Are you?"

John nodded. "I like it when you like things I do. Feels good."

"My darling, I love everything you do."

John blushed. "Thank you."

"You are so welcome, my love."

"Ready to get out, get a little dessert?"

Jim quirked a brow at him. "Are you?"

John giggled. "Little bit. I've got to say, while I was down there... I couldn't help but think about how much fun it would be to suck chocolate off your cock.”

Jim hummed a little, moving to get up. "Well you're going to the fridge this time," he chuckled.

John smiled. "I will." He stood and stretched, stepping out of the tub and toweling (most) of the way off. He didn't want to make a mess, but he wanted Jim to have a reason to stare. "Meet you in the bedroom," he said as he disappeared out of the door.

Jim dragged his lower lip through his teeth, watching him dry himself. So...so gorgeous. He swallowed, craning his neck to see him out and stood. He dried himself as well, a bit more thorough and went into the room, lying back on the bed, one knee up and pointed in the air with his wrists linked above his head, waiting.

John walked down to the kitchen, taking his sweet time with a grin on his face. In the fridge he found a bottle of chocolate syrup and, to his delight, a can of whipped cream. It didn't take him long to decided to carry them both up, his head filled with delightfully arousing (if a little filthy. And messy) thoughts as he returned. He groaned at the sight of Jim and set his condiments down on the nightstand. "I could look at you for hours," he said, eyes darkening.

Jim lifted his head and grinned at him, licking his teeth. He chuckled. "I'll let you watch me nap sometime," he said in a low voice.

John felt goosebumps break across his skin. "I would. God, I would." He climbed onto the bed and kissed him deeply, running his hands down his sides. "Are you ready?"

Jim let his eyes fall shut and he smiled. "Yes, my darling, I'm ready."

"I want you to know, I'm going to ask you to do something, and while I enjoy surprises, I don't want to make you uncomfortable.”

"Alright," Jim nodded. "Sure."

John picked up the can of whipped cream and shook it slowly. "After I'm done sucking every inch of you clean... I want to cover your cock in whipped cream, and Jim?" He looked at him through his lashes, licking his lips. "I want you to fuck me."

"Bit messy. You'll have to be careful," he said. "But yeah, I can do that, dear."

John blushed. "I know, but it's..." He was suddenly embarrassed. "Hot."

Jim licked his lips. "John, baby, I said I'd do it."

"I know. Thank you." He took the syrup and ran his hand down the inside of Jim's thigh, flipping the cap up with his free thumb. "This might be a little cold, darling," he said, as he began to write his name on Jim's stomach.

Jim giggled at the chill before groaning, becoming used to it. He felt his nipples contract and perk, eyes shut while he leaned back, baring his throat.

John finished the cursive and drew a trail up to the hollow of his throat, setting the bottle on the nightstand before lowering his head and lapping at the pooled syrup.

Jim moaned aloud, shivering underneath him. "Oh, god, that tongue..."

John pressed his lips against Jim's skin, sucking the chocolate from his throat as he made his way down his chest.

Jim sighed, humming at his touches. "Yes, yes, god, yes," he whispered.

John finally reached the swirls and curves that comprised his name. Using only his tongue, he traced each letter, moving slowly. J-O-H-N. He moaned at the taste of his skin and sweet syrup, his hips swaying.

Jim shuddered, hands clinging to his back. He scratched at him, licking his lips. "Fuck."

John kissed down to his pelvis, reclaiming the bottle and drizzling the chocolate over his rather noticeable erection. "God, Jim, you taste incredible..." He looked him in the eyes and licked spare sauce from his lips before lowering his head and licking along his shaft.

"Cannot believe that I'm hard again. You see what you do to me, love?" He moaned, writhing underneath him. "God, yes, I need this...I need you, John."

John kept his eyes locked on Jim as he, very slowly, pressed his swollen lips against his cock and lazily sucked, lingering briefly after each spot was cleaned, working his way in a spiral to his head.

Jim gasped, chest heaving as John worked. He moaned out his name in short breaths, hands slipping to his hair and pulling while his hips rolled lazily.

John licked Jim clean, his tongue sliding over every inch of Jim's length before he pressed a chaste kiss to his head. He crawled over him and took the whipped cream, shaking the can as he reclaimed his spot between his legs. "Tell me, Mr. Moriarty." There was something inherently erotic about saying his name formally. "What would you like to do?"

Jim moaned when John growled. "I...yes. Anything you want, please..."

John pulled the cap off and sprayed it along his flushed cock, watching him through his lashes. "Fuck me, Mr. Moriarty. I want you to fuck me. Again.”

Jim keened and jerked off the bed, body trembling. "Yes, fuck, yes I'll fuck you, John, god..."

John turned around, still on his hands and knees as he offered himself to Jim.

Jim moaned, sitting up a little, guiding John back onto lap while he was still lying down. He watched himself slip inside of him, around the whipped cream and the chocolate and oh, fuck, it was beautiful.

John looked back over his shoulder, lips parted, eyes blown black as he started to ride.

Jim moaned aloud, shaking. "Fuck! John, look at you. God, look at you..."

John licked his lips, drawing himself up and slipping back down with eager sighs. "Oh, Jim... I can't get enough of you..." He started to rock faster, hands on Jim's thighs for leverage.

Jim groaned, whimpering. "God, it's mutual, baby. Oh, shit!"

John let out a low moan, never looking away, as he began to tremble. "You feel so good, love, so fucking good..." He bit his bottom lip, whining softly.

Jim was a sticky, dripping mess and he'd never been more content with it. "You're so beautiful," he grunted, thrusting up into him.

John gasped, bringing his hips down to meet Jim's. "So are you," he panted. "Absolutely gorgeous..."

Jim groaned. "Turn around, turn around, John, let me see you, please."

John did as Jim commanded, using his next rise to rotate around and face the man. He leaned forward, snaking his hands up Jim's chest.

"Christ!" Jim spat, looking up at him. "Oh, darling..." He whimpered, bucking up into him hard. "Fuck, so beautiful."

John leaned down and licked his mouth open, capturing him in a heated kiss as he rolled his hips.

Jim kissed him back, tangling their tongues together and moaning into his mouth. "Mmn..."

John ran one hand through Jim's hair, gently feeling the damp strands as he rocked above him. God, it was glorious, and he hoped Jim was enjoying it as much as he was.

"I'm close, I'm close, John, oh my god," he moaned, bucking into him harder.

"Come for me," John breathed, slamming back against his hips. "Come for me, Jim." He was close himself, trying to hold off until Jim finished.

Jim whined, moving harder and deeper, erratic while he gasped and shuddered. He came with a shout, arching into him. "JOHN!"

John leaned down and sucked at the sensitive spot of Jim's collarbone as he shouted, his noises pushing him over the edge. "Oh, Jim, JIM!" He spilled across their stomachs, gasping, sweaty and sticky and feeling thoroughly debauched. It was perfect.

Jim wrapped his arms around him, holding him tight. "Fuck," he whispered, kissing his chest. "That was...Christ, gorgeous."

John blushed, collapsing against him. "Not too weird, was it? ...Asks the guys who asked to laze in a tub blood."

Jim giggled. "No, creative, but no."

John wiggled a little, getting comfortable on top of him. "Okay, maybe now is a good place for a breather." He blushed, burying his face in the crook of Jim's neck. "Watch, won't be able to move tomorrow. Call in sick. ‘Sorry, can't come in to kill today, too thoroughly fucked. I have a doctor's note. It's from me.’”

Jim giggled. "Ah, ah, ah, you need to go get cleaned up. I don't want you getting sick, go on," he urged, rocking him off of him. I'm going too, come on."

John groaned and stood, rolling into a sitting postion and moving to stand, walking toward the bathroom. "Yes, sir," he sighed dramatically.

"We can cuddle all we want in a minute. Last thing we need is to go to the hospital for something embarrassing and get put on Twitter for it." He muttered, wetting a cloth in the sink and cleaning himself off. He kissed his cheek when he was through, giving him some privacy. He sighed at the sticky mess his top-sheet had become and tore it off, wadding it into the hamper and righting the comforter. "Thank heaven for that," he mumbled, lying on top of it, waiting.

John was grateful for the privacy, a little embarrassed by the chocolate and cream smeared over his body. But it was hot, christ, it was. He stepped into the shower for added help, spending a good five minutes washing up before drying himself off and returning with a towel around his waist. John noticed the change in the bed and blushed. "Sorry," he said quietly.

Jim pressed a finger to his lips. "Don't you be sorry for one second of what just happened." He kissed him. "Did you notice?"

John cocked his head. "Notice?"

Jim kissed his cheek, whispering very quietly. "I begged."

John paused. "...Oh my god. You did." He blushed.

Jim smirked. "Do you know how many people I've done that for?"

"Less than five?"

"Including you? One."

John cupped his jaw and pulled him in for a soft kiss, carding his free hand through his dark hair.

Jim kissed back, sighing. "John, what are you doing to me?"

John felt a twinge of panic. "Hopefully good things."

Jim smiled, thumbing his cheek to soothe him. "I know. Bit strange for me, don't you think?"

John nodded. "I... yeah. Should I... should I be less..." He struggled to find the words. "It's not a problem, is it?"

Jim frowned a little. "Baby, no," he shook his head. "I didn't say it was a bad thing. I didn't say that I wanted you to stop being you either. No I just...I think it's funny."

"Alright," he said, smiling a little.

Jim kissed him. "Don't worry so much, honey."

John nuzzled against him. "I won't. Promise."

Jim grinned. "Good. Now, we were cuddling?"

John nodded and laid down, holding out an arm for Jim to lay on. "Yes, we were, love."

Jim took the spot and lied beside him with a soft smile, tracing the letters on his chest.

John moaned softly. "Mmm. I like them."

Jim looked at him curiously. "You do?"

John nodded. "Remember how hard I fought to keep them? You kept offering to get them taken off, and I refused. Over and over. Personally, I find it sexy. If you're not around, all I have to do is look down and there you are. Your own brand, on me."

Jim kissed his chest. "Cheesy as this is going to sound, I'll always be with you because of this. Right here."

"Mmm, have you met me? Bad pickup lines and infinite cheese. I like it. And, yeah, that's... that makes me happy."

Jim smiled. "Good. I like it when you're happy."

John stroked his side. "Today has been amazing."

Jim smiled. "I'm glad you enjoyed it."

John kissed his forehead. "Did you?"

Jim grinned. "Oh, of course I did."

John chuckled. "Good. You definitely seemed to."

Jim growled, almost purring. "Oh, absolutely, darling."

John shivered. "God, I love it when you do that."

Jim smirked, growling in his ear. "Do you?"

John whined, shifting his hips beneath his towel. "Oh, fuck, yes... It's... Jesus, Jim, it's incredibly sexy."

Jim chuckled darkly. "Is there anything I do you don't like?"

John licked his lips. "So far? No. You're perfect."

"Mm, hope to keep it that way."

John chuckled. "Really, the only thing you could do that would bother me is replacing me."

"I'd never replace you," Jim said, eyes bright, genuine.

John smiled. "Good. Then we'll have no problems. ...I'll never replace you."

"Not even with Sherlock?" He snickered.

"Of course not. Not even with Sherlock." He kissed Jim’s lips, softly. "Because I-" love you christ I do "-Am with you, and let's be honest here, no one can possibly live up to the standards you're setting for me." John chuckled. "There's you, Jim, and that's all there's ever going to be."

Jim smiled at him, stroking his cheek. "Good. Better not be. I'd hate to kill someone you liked."

John grinned. "Mmm. I love how possessive you are. Makes me all tingly."

Jim giggled. "You like hearing about the things I'd do to someone trying to take you from me?"

John blushed. "God, yes, I do."

Jim licked his teeth. "Would you like to hear some more?"

"Yes, please."

Jim continued tracing his name on his chest, grinning. "If you tried to replace me? I'd find whoever agreed to it, whatever moron would dare cross me, and I'd skin them," he hissed. "Cut off their face and use it as a dishrag and spill their intestines on the floor and watch them die the slowest death I was merciful enough to give them."

John arched into his touch, moaning low in his throat. "Oh, god..." Even exhausted, even as spent as he was, he could feel the fire creeping through his veins. "Are we absolutely sure we're not working tonight?"

"Mm, want to watch me skin someone alive?" He breathed, kissing his chest.

John shivered. "God yes. I want to watch you, I want to help, I want to get on my hands and knees and have you shove me into the blood..." His eyes fluttered closed, imagining it, some dingy gray warehouse with light buzzing overhead, screams echoing in the empty space as their skin slapped together... "You're perfect, absolutely perfect, Jim, fuck..."

Jim licked the cusp of his ear. "And you are so very sexy when you talk like that."

"When I talk about violence, or when I talk about the different ways I want you to fuck me?"

"Both," Jim whispered.

John groaned. "I'll keep that in mind. I really, really will." He shifted his hips slightly, practically panting.

Jim grinned. "I know you will, sweetheart," he purred. "You're always so very thoughtful.

John swallowed and pulled Jim as close as he could. "Mhm. That's because I want to make you happy."

“I am happy. I'm very happy."

John grinned. "I'm glad. I am too. And I'm looking forward to everything with you."

"So, mad hot sex and murder?"

John chuckled. "God, yes. Sometimes at the same time." He winked at Jim.

Jim licked his lips. "That's why I said and."

John grazed his teeth across his bottom lip, eyes dark. "I can't wait. You have no idea how excited I am to be healed for the next one. I wanted it, wanted it so badly yesterday, wanted you... If I had been able, I would have begged for you, pleaded with you to fuck me right there, among the flames and the smoke and the blood..."

Jim kissed him deeply. "Fire kills people, baby. Wouldn't want you in that kind of danger."

"Everything kills people, darling. Living is dangerous. I see you point, though. Alright, no fires. I promise."

"Fucking you in a puddle of blood seems doable, though," he chuckled.

John groaned. "Good, because I want that. I want that badly."

Jim giggled. "Oh, I know you do."

John ran his hand along Jim's back. "What time is it?"

"Around three."

John "Mmm. Want to take a nap before round two?"

Jim grinned. "Sure, love."

John smiled and closed his eyes, drifting off almost immediately.

Jim curled against his chest with a quiet sigh, sleeping quickly himself, completely at ease.

John only made one noise as he rested, deep under the waves of consciousness. "Mmmloveyou." Whispered as they both slept, too gone to notice.

Jim definitely heard that. His eyes snapped open and he sat up a little. He just looked at him for awhile, thrown. He shook his head, dismissing the thought. Just mutterings of routine before sleeping. Nothing more. Nothing...that meant anything. He settled quickly, sleep coming a little later this time.


	7. The Becoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end of John and Jim's lazy day in bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for this chapter: Jim discusses the worst year of his life. Graphic abuse, physical and sexual. Read with caution.
> 
> SINCE I AM EDITING THIS, I just want to take a moment to talk about how wonderful Jim is and how I like her history and headcanons for him, and I love the different sides to his personality, and just. Yes. Yessssss. She's wonderful. He's wonderful. Hers is the best of Jims.
> 
> Enjoy this bit of fluff before the next kill, where I get to finally show off some more <3

John slept for a good four hours, coming to around seven with a growling stomach.

Jim grunted awake when John stirred, wondering if he'd remembered anything.

John smiled down at him, eyes a little red from sleep. "Hello."

Jim smiled back. "Hi." Apparently not.

John kissed his forehead. "Can I cook you dinner?"

Jim nodded, grinning. "Of course you can."

"Mm. Good." He lingered a moment, looking at Jim's eyes. _Just do it_. "Jim?"

Jim's brows rose. "Yes?"

John maneuvered his body underneath him, laying Jim back against the warm mattress and covering his body with his own. He kissed him, softly, before moving to whisper against his ear. "I love you, Jim Moriarty. You're all I think about. Waking, sleeping... You've given me more than I could ever have dreamed up, and you're the greatest man I've ever met. I love you. And you don't have to say it back; I know it's soon, so soon, but I... I needed to tell you. You needed to know."

Jim stared at him, wide-eyed, shocked and...utterly speechless. He swallowed, looking at him as if he had antlers. "You... _love_ me?"

John cupped his jaw. "I love you."

Jim swallowed again. "I...No one's ever said that to me before."

John caressed Jim's skin. "You're going to hear it a lot from me. Until you get sick of it, and even then, I won't stop."

Jim licked his lips, holding his face. "John, I-I care about you very much. I...can't say it. Yet. I can't. I've never said it in my life. But I will. I'm sure of it."

John smiled softly. "You don't have to, Jim. You didn't bring me here for romance, and I know that." He let out a soft chuckle. "I just kind of blundered into it." He kissed Jim's palm. "I believe I was on my way to make you dinner."

Jim shook his head. "Stop that, don't do that. Don't undermine your own feelings," he whispered back, kissing him fully. "Kitchen's all yours, love."

John left him reluctantly, making his way to kitchen in still just a towel. It didn't take long for him to decide on a meal- tortellini in alfredo sauce. Thankfully, Jim had everything he needed to make it from scratch. He set the pasta to boil while he began to prepare the sauce.

Jim stared up at the ceiling, expression blank and possibly caught in a state of mild awe. John...loved him. And he meant it. Someone actually- He'd never had this before. At one time in his life he'd wanted it but after that he'd been content with being alone. No attachments, made things simpler. This was different. This changed everything. And he was almost sure he was okay with that.

John hummed as he cooked, a bit of Britpop he still loved from his uni days. _I'm on the white cliffs of Dover thinking it over and over. But if I jump it's all over... A cautionary tale for you. I'd like to roll in the clover, with you over and over, on the white cliffs of Dover. And then I'd let you push me over..._ When the timer went off he set the pasta on a cool burner and flipped the original off, still waiting for his homemade sauce to thicken.

Jim listened to John hum and he grinned, eyes sliding shut. Definitely sure he was okay with this. It was wonderful, John being so near, so happy.

John pulled down two plates and dished up the noodles, drizzling the cream cheese-based alfredo over top. He left the excess out, just for now, in case either of them wanted extras. After he finally located the silverware, he carried the plates (and two forks) back to the bedroom.

Jim smiled at him, sitting up on his elbows. "Smells heavenly, my sweet."

John handed him his plate and sat down, crossing his legs beneath him. "If it tastes half as good as it smells, it's a success."

Jim took a bite and swallowed, kissing his cheek. "It's perfect."

John beamed. "I'm glad you think so." He tucked into his meal with the usual aplomb, relishing the smooth taste on his tongue.

"I love it when you do that," Jim purred.

John blushed. "When I eat?"

Jim chuckled. "When you make noises while you eat.”

John "Oh. Even though you've heard me make the same noises in other scenarios?"

Jim nodded. "Yeah, it's cute. Alluring, but cute."

John smiled. "I'm glad you find it cute."

"I think just about everything you do is cute."

John chuckled. "Just cute?"

Jim winked. "No."

John grinned widely. "Good, I'd be worried if that was all." He took another bite, eyes fluttering closed as he sighed.

Jim kissed his cheek. "Never."

John finished his plate and all but licked it clean, setting it on the nightstand and making a mental note to take their dishes down when he wrapped the leftovers up. He settled back against the bed, smiling happily.

Jim finished soon after. "So, we're rested, we're fed..." He chewed his lips, playful. "Now what?"

"Mmm, anything you want, darling."

"I want you."

"Me?" John grinned, crawling closer. "How do you want me?"

Jim licked his lips. "Anyway you'll let me, baby."

John groaned. "Surely you have an idea in that beautiful mind of yours... you'll find I'm very accommodating..."

Jim grinned. "In my closet there's a black box with a bow on it. It's for you, go get it."

John blushed. "A present? It's my lucky day." He slipped off the bed and retrieved the box, returning to Jim, eager to find out what was inside. "May I open it?"

Jim sat up a little, smiling. "Yes, you may." He watched John open the box, grin wider at his expression.

John tugged at the silk bow, setting the cloth aside as he lifted the lid. Nested in the red tissue was pair of purple silk knickers, and he flushed deeply. "Oh, god... can I... Can I put them on?"

"You damn well better."

John was glad there was no tag on them as he rose and slipped them over his skin, groaning at the feel of them. They rode high on his hips, barely concealing his cock, but christ, he loved them. He turned slowly, letting Jim get a good look. "Good?"

Jim grinned, cheeks pinked, eyes hot. "Fucking beautiful."

John climbed onto the bed and crawled to him, hips swaying. "Do you want to touch them?"

"Yes, I do," he breathed.

John looked up at him through his lashes. "Please touch me, Mr. Moriarty."

Jim slid fingers along the front of his crotch, watching with a groan.

John arched into his touch, whimpering softly. "Mmmm... More, please..."

Jim slid his free hand down his back, snapping the waistband against his skin and grabbing a handful of his arse, still stroking.

John let out a low moan, growing harder beneath Jim's hand. "Oh, god... Perfect, absolutely perfect..."

"So fucking beautiful, John. So goddamn sexy I can't breathe."

John "If it becomes a problem, I am a trained medical professional." He licked his lips, letting his eyes fall closed. "Mmm...."

"I'll let you know. Kiss me, for the love of fuck..." He moaned, kissing John deep, lapping at the inside of his mouth.

John reached up and threaded his hand through Jim's hair, moaning at the feel of his tongue, eager and greedy to kiss the remaining air from his lungs.

Jim kept rubbing until John was peeking out of the knickers. He sighed against his lips again, a fingertip tracing the tip.

John gasped, shivering. "Mmm, god yes..." He was large enough that, fully hard, they wouldn't cover him. It was perfect, the right combination of sexy and filthy, and it was absolute heaven.

"Get your hips up here. By my mouth; yes, like that, sweetie." He started licking at the exposed skin, moaning at the taste of him.

John let out a long, needy whine as Jim's tongue moved across his flesh. "J-Jim..." He watched him with parted lips, breath hitching in his chest as their eyes met.

Jim looked up at him, tongue still working hastily. He growled against him, both hands on his arse, squeezing and kneading his flesh.

John broke out with goosebumps, moaning loudly as Jim's hands worked. _Fuck_ , he loved having his arse grabbed. "If I- uhn, fuck, yes- asked you to fuck me, would you? Pull them aside, keep them on, make me come all over them?"

Jim nodded eagerly. "Yes, baby, get on your hands for me," he breathed, reluctantly letting him go.

John did as he was told, getting on all fours for Jim.

Jim followed him, smoothing palms over his skin. He kissed up his spine, rubbing his hips. "You still open, love?"

John nodded. "Mmm, yes, I am. Dry, but open."

Jim grinned and slicked his fingers, tugging the satin aside and pressing them inside of him. "Oh, good god, John..."

John whimpered and rocked back onto his hand, shivering slightly. "Mmm, more, please... I need more of you..."

Jim slicked himself. "Shh, just a minute, just a minute, sweetheart." He slipped inside of him, moaning. "Fuck, so hot inside you, darling."

John pressed back against Jim, whimpering as he filled him. "Uhn..." He began to rock, the silk tugging against him as his muscles tightened.

Jim watched John fuck himself back on his cock, stroking him through the soft fabric of the panties, grinning. "Look at you..."

John licked his lips and dipped his back lower, gasping at the change in sensation. "Mmm, see what you do to me?"

"Wonderful things," he grinned, slowly starting to thrust.

John rolled his hips and lowered his head, watching his body strain against the silk as Jim began to move. "The very best things, fuck... Mmm, I want to wear them tomorrow too..."

"Good, I fucking want you to," Jim snarled, lips beside his ear. "Sexy fucking thing, fuck you right there in the blood with these on your pretty hips.”

"Oh, fuck, yes, please! Please, you _have_ to..."

"I will, I will, fuck. You know I will. Can't say no to you..." He moaned, moving faster.

John met every one of his thrusts, whining without shame as Jim's hand and hips worked in sync. "Uhn, fuck, so good, Jim... Harder, please..."

Jim obliged, bucking into him as harder, cock sliding beside the satin. He moaned his name again, falling against his spine, biting, sucking and licking where he could reach.

John cried out, digging his nails into the bed. "Fuck, yes, Jim!" He loved it, loved every second it, loved the way only Jim could do this to him.

Jim groaned, arching off of him a moment, moving harder and deeper. "John, you're so fucking beautiful."

John looked at Jim over his shoulder, lips parted, eyes dark. "Mm, fuck, s-so are you..." Their eyes met, and John couldn't hold himself back. With a shout of Jim's name he came onto the silk, muscles tightening and trembling as he fucked into his sensitive body.

Jim turned his chin to kiss him while he edged further. He broke away to shout, whimpering his name and releasing deep inside of him.

John lowered himself to the bed with a whimper, sweating and smiling. "Mmm. Perfect." He laid his head on his hands, catching his breath, his muscles still twitching now and again.

Jim kissed the back of his neck and his shoulders. "Couldn't have said it better myself."

John hummed softly. "Mm, come lay with me."

Jim laid beside him with a smile, combing his hair from his face. "Hi."

John smiled. "Hello, gorgeous."

Jim gave a shy smile that revealed his dimples. "So that was good, yeah?"

John returned the expression. "I love it when you smile. And yes, that was bloody wonderful."

"Most smiling I've done...ever. I think."

John planted a quick kiss on his lips. "I'm glad. Don't get me wrong, fuck, I love your smolder. But you're gorgeous when you're happy too."

"Never really been happy, either," he whispered, so quiet it was barely audible. "It's nice."

John moved so that his torso crossed Jim's, looking down at him. "I promise to keep you happy for as long as you'll have me.”

Jim kissed him. "Forever."

John nuzzled against Jim's nose, blushing. "Yes. Forever."

Jim smiled gently. "I love you, John."

John blushed, resting their foreheads together. "I love you too, Jim." _One._

Jim felt a relief wash over him and he chuckled. "Never thought I'd say that."

John kissed him gently. "Never thought you would either."

Jim frowned. "You didn't?"

John chuckled. "I'm insecure, Jim. You know that."

"You really think I couldn't...? Sweetheart." He kissed him again.

John kissed him back. "It'll pass. You're already doing wonders for my state of mind. You're wonderful, Jim, and I'm so glad you're in my life- and that you brought me into yours."

"Me too," he breathed. "God I am."

John grinned at him. "Good."

Jim kissed him. "And we'll fix that self-esteem, don't you worry."

"Oh, I know. You're already well on your way to making me feel good about myself. It sure helps, having a gorgeous man and a job I'm going to love."

Jim grinned. "And I have an equally gorgeous man so willing to work for me. My precious doctor."

John blushed deeper. "Mmm, yes, yours. And god, am I willing."

Jim looked at him, smile faltering a little. "John...Can you do something for me?"

John nodded. "Anything, Jim. Anything."

Jim cleared his throat. "John, I've...I've never let someone..." _Spit it out!_ "I've never trusted someone enough to- And I trust you that much, I'm more than..." God damn it, Jim.

John cocked his head and took Jim's hand. "You can do this. Just tell me what I can do for you, love." He rubbed his thumb across the back of Jim's knuckles reassuringly.

Jim dropped his gaze. "I want...to feel you, um...inside of me."

John used his free hand to lift Jim's chin. "If you're sure," he said, gazing into Jim's dark brown eyes, "then I would be honored."

Jim nodded, swallowing. "I'm sure. Just...just nervous."

John leaned over and kissed him softly. "When?"

"N-now? If you like." He couldn't remember the last time he'd let someone see him like this. Small, stammering, almost scared, asking rather than telling. And he hoped it wouldn't put John off.

"I would like to. Very much." He kissed Jim's forehead. "Here; lay you head on the pillow for me, please?" He could see Jim was scared, and he wanted to help- he wanted to make him as comfortable as possible.

Jim lied back as instructed, eyes naked with vulnerability.

John kissed him again, slowly working a trail down his chest. He paused at the sensitive spot on his collarbone, lacing his fingers with Jim's as he sucked at the spot.

Jim held his hand, moaning softly. _He's going to see those scars, he'll see them or feel them. What do you think he'll think of you? You think he'll still want you, Jimmy?_

John slowly traveled down his body, stopping to lick a stripe over his hips. "I've got you, Jim. I promise. It's going to be okay." He kissed the inside of Jim's thighs, taking the bottle of lubrication and pooling a little in his palm. He slicked his fingers and began to trace the soft skin of Jim's perineum. "Are you ready for me to begin, Jim?"

Jim relaxed a little, breathing slowly. He licked his lips, focusing on the feel of his fingers. So warm and careful... "Yes, John. I'm ready."

John slid his finger lower, massaging his muscle. He could already feel scars, the wounds of a body pushed past its limits. He refused to comment on them- they only encouraged him. Jim needed to see that this was alright, that he was safe, that John would never push him. _So much suffering. So much pain. I wish I could help_. He lowered his head, pulling his finger back for a moment, pressing a kiss again the damaged flesh before resuming, slowly rubbing him open enough to slip inside.

Jim felt his eyes close at his touches and knew when he found them. Just the slightest jump at the change in skin texture. He kept his eyes shut, not wanting to see his face, not wanting to know that John was repulsed- He shuddered, jumping a little. He swallowed and looked down at him, lips shaking before he fell back on the pillow with a moan, shuddering.

John kissed his thigh as he slipped a finger inside. "It's alright," he whispered. "I've got you." He slowly began to work him open, rotating his finger, crooking it just a little before straightening it again. "Tell me when you think it's safe to add another, love."

Jim nodded weakly. "I will, fuck, John..." He moaned a little, licking his lips. "Feels good. Feels so good..."

John pressed a little deeper, brushing his prostate, never stopping his kisses as he gently fucked him open.

Jim 's entire body shook at the contact, moaning aloud. "M-more, John. More, please."

John slowly added a second finger, scissoring them apart slowly, spreading him a little wider.

Jim whined low in his throat, arching back on his fingers. He kept a hold of John's hand, his other hand fisted in the sheets. "John..."

John squeezed Jim's hand, reassuring him as he began to pump his hand, slowly, in and out as he inched his fingers apart. "Jim," he said, licking along his leg.

"John, oh god!" He whimpered, legs spreading in encouragement. "Yes, yes, fuck..."

John nuzzled his face against him, massaging the cluster of nerves inside of him. "Tell me when, Jim. I won't move forward without your permission."

Jim saw white lights behind his eyes, moaning and shuddering. His legs trembled, eyes gasping softly. "John, John, yes, please. Please, I need more, please."

John pressed his third finger into Jim's body, rotating his hand to make sure he was thoroughly slicked.

Jim squeezed his hand harder, whimpering again. "John, John..." He breathed his name like a prayer, wanting, needing desperately.

John stretched him carefully, loathing the idea of causing him pain. "Tell me when, Jim," he whispered before licking a stripe up Jim's shaft.

Jim moaned again, arching helplessly into his mouth. "Please, John, now. More, more, please..."

John took him in his mouth as he withdrew his hand, pulling his knickers off before slicking his cock. He aligned his hips with Jim's, cock just against his skin, before he let him go and began to press into him, going very slowly, moving to kiss the special spot on his chest.

Jim gasped, shaking a little. "Oh-oh god, John. Yes, please. Oh please..." He moaned. This marked the first time in his life he'd allowed someone to do this. And he was so glad it was John.

John slid inside of him, gasping. "Jim, christ, you feel amazing..." He kissed him, gently, until he was buried in him. "Tell me when it's okay to move."

Jim's chest moved rapidly, body shivering lightly. "M-move. Please, I need you."

John began to rock his hips, moaning. "Oh fuck, Jim. God, I love you. I love you so much." He picked up his pace, just a little, one hand reaching down to stroke Jim as they moved together.

Jim gasped aloud as he tried to breathe with John moving inside of him. He arched up into his hand with a shout of his name.

John pressed soft kisses to Jim's jaw and neck, keeping his hips and hand moving in sync. "You're beautiful, Jim, so beautiful, and you feel so good..."

Jim gasped and shuddered, licking his lips and trying to kiss him.

John leaned down and caught his lips, kissing him deeply as they rocked together.

Jim pried his hand from the sheets and ran his fingers through his hair. He rocked back into his thrust, body slicked with sweat. "John."

"Jim," the doctor whispered, kissing him again as his hips moved. He was trembling, already close, but he held himself back. Not until Jim finishes. Jim first.

Jim moaned softly, shaking and whimpering under him. "Fuck, fuck, John!" He writhed. "I'm close, I'm so close..."

John kissed his jaw. "Come for me, Jim. Come with me. Please. love. Don't hold back." He pulsed the muscles in his hand, which Jim seemed to enjoy, as he moved a little faster.

Jim cried out, moaning John's name repeatedly, like a prayer. He wrapped his arms around his back, knees squeezing his sides. "John, oh, John! I-I'm-!" He spilled over his hand and his stomach, grunting as John kept thrusting into him.

John followed behind him, a loud moan of Jim's name forcing its way through his lips as he filled him. He leaned down, gasping, pressing their foreheads together as he held himself up over Jim. "I love you."

Jim held him to him, gasping as well. "I love you too. Thank you."

John chuckled softly. "Thank you. For trusting me with something like that."

"Thank you for not making me regret it," he smiled, clinging to him.

John gently pulled out of him and kissed his cheek, curling up beside him. "I'd have felt terrible if I did."

"Never. You'd never hurt me..." He swallowed. "I understand that completely now."

"No, never. I couldn't. Not that kind of guy. I hurt who you tell me to," he said with a wink.

Jim giggled. "Yes, you do." He held his cheek, smile faltering. "I...I'm sure you have questions."

John sighed softly. "Not until you're ready. I won't push."

Jim shrugged a little. "I know everything about you and you know practically nothing about me."

"I figured you wanted it that way. It's alright, really. I need to know someday, but if today's not the day, that's fine."

"I did. Because I didn't trust you. I've never trusted anyone, and I trust you." He swallowed. "And I don't mind if it's today."

John kissed his forehead. "Alright. What happened to you, Jim?"

Jim looked up at him, taking a breath. "Um," he cleared his throat. "When I was sixteen I got tired of not having anything that was mine. Hand me down clothes that were always too big, socks and shoes with holes in them, I was tired of it. So I found this company that had over a dozen of shore bank accounts, so much money I thought they'd never notice if I wired five-thousand dollars out. That's all, just...They wouldn't even miss it, wouldn't notice. But they did. But they didn't take it from me and leave it. No...no, they took me. No one to miss me; foster's thought I ran away and I was a ward of the state again. They took me to this place and tossed me into this room filled with at least fifteen men." He swallowed. "They ripped my clothes off, tied me up and..." His gaze dropped. "I was a virgin before I went in there and they did things to me that...there aren't words, John. And it was every day, every fucking day that they did that to me. At least ten men at a time every time. When I wasn't with them they kept me chained to a bed in a different room. Sort of a VIP member thing to come in and fuck me on an actual bed. They trained me. Good boy, bad boy. I didn't get to eat if I didn't behave. Sometimes if I did behave they still wouldn't feed me. Wouldn't let me sleep. If I cried when I wasn't supposed to I didn't get to sleep for three days. I didn't eat anything but cum for two weeks because they felt like it." Tears streaked down his cheeks, silent, hot and burning. "A year. I was there for a year before I got away. I broke my wrists and ran as fast as I could." He swallowed, breath shaky. "I got to a hospital and no one asked me if I was alright. They asked me why I ran away, if I knew I'd be going to a detention center, what drugs I'd done. They thought I'd done all the damage to my body because of drugs and prostitution. I wouldn't speak, I couldn't. I couldn't talk John, I couldn't get the words out. So they institutionalized me." He shivered. "I only wanted someone to ask me if I was alright. That's all. Just one person to ask me if I was okay. No one did. Nobody."

John felt the familiar rage building inside of him, the same anger he felt coiling in his gut when he lived at home. "Jim," he whispered. "I'm so sorry. So fucking sorry. That's... that's the most horrible thing I've ever heard, and I'm so sorry you had to go through that." _Kill. Kill them. Make them pay._ He touched Jim's jaw, gently. "I love you, and I'm so fucking sorry."

Jim shrugged a little. "It's...it is what it is, I expect."

John frowned and pulled Jim a little closer. "I'm sorry."

Jim shook his head, burying his face in his chest. "You didn't do it."

"But I can't fix it, either."

Jim smiled a little. "Yes you can. You are. Right here, right now."

John kissed his hair. "I hope it's helping, I really do."

Jim nuzzled closer to him, clinging, face wet. "God it is."

John stroked his cheek. "It's alright, Jim. I promise. You're safe with me. I won't... I already have the habit of asking about anything I do, so you don't need to worry about that. You're in control of whatever we do. Alright?"

Jim smiled. "I know. You're so kind, John. So very kind."

John snorted. "Unless I'm angry. You wouldn't like me when I'm angry. Not that I'd be angry with you. I couldn't be. I know my place. But, with others."

Jim "Very Bruce Banner of you," he teased. "I know you get angry, dear."

John snorted. "Yeah, I do. And you're giving me the perfect outlet."

"I am?"

"Oh yes. The work you have me do... it's going to help a lot."

Jim nodded. "Good."

John kissed his neck, smoothing his hair. "How are you feeling?"

Jim smiled a little. "Been better. It'll go away, I'm fine."

John frowned slightly his brow creasing. "Did I make it worse?"

Jim shook his head. "No, no, absolutely not. Just memories."

John knew he couldn't help with that, so he simple quieted himself and held Jim close. He was a surgeon, not a psychiatrist, and he was terrified of making the man he loved feel worse.

"John, baby, don't worry so much," Jim said softly, smiling up at him. "I'm alright, I am, and you're not going to make anything worse."

"I hope so," he replied, nuzzling his face against Jim's cheek. "I just... care. So much. And I want you to know that I won't let anything happen to you. Not that you need my protection, cor, you've probably got an army."

Jim shook his head. "No, just you." He giggled, nuzzling back. "People pay me protection money but there aren't a lot of people who even know what I look or sound like. Let alone protect me."

John arched his eyebrow. "I seem to recall you having snipers."

Jim chewed his lip, glancing at him. "Laser pointers."

John snorted. "Are you _shitting_ me? Laser pointers? Were _any_ of them real?"

Jim shook his head. "No. But Sherlock's gun was a lighter, so it's all fair. I do have snipers I can call if need be, but I...called Sherlock's bluff."

John groaned. "Of course, leave it to him to go off half-cocked with a fake gun against the world's greatest criminal. Behind my bloody back. I guess it doesn't matter, the only thing that could have gone wrong was the semtex- that was real, wasn't it?”

Jim nodded. "Yes, that was very real. And I really didn't want to blow you up. You looked so damn cute in that coat."

John blushed. "I did not, I looked like a spoiled marshmallow."

Jim giggled and held his face. "You did not, you looked incredibly cuddly. And you were. I should know, you did grab me."

John turned even redder. "Yeah, I did. And you seemed pleased."

Jim grinned. "'Course I did. Hot, excited army doctor grabbing at me? I was absolutely pleased."

John licked his lips. "Um. Noticed that, did you?"

Jim chewed his lip. "It's what changed my mind."

"Oh. Well. I'm glad it did."

Jim chuckled, kissing his cheek. "Me too."

"Would have been awful to miss out on this, with you."

Jim smiled a little. "You think so?"

John "I know so. I keep telling you. Best thing to happen to me."

"Hard to believe when you're me."

John traced the curve of his jaw with a steady fingertip, drawing Jim's eyes up to meet his own. "You, James Moriarty, are the best thing to ever happen to me. And I mean that. And I'm so very, very glad that you whisked me away that night. No matter how afraid I was, no matter how much pain I was in, I'm glad. Because you know what I've found here? Love. Love, and a man who accepts me for who I am. And that is more than I would ever have had without you. I'd still be nobody. I'd still be invisible. Everyone only sees Sherlock, but you... you saw me."

"I regret what I did to you when you got here more and more every day," he said softly. He looked at him, kissing his shoulder. "Of course I saw you. definitely saw your potential. Good lord, you're exquisite."

John grinned. "You're making up for it, don't worry. Fulfilling all my dreams." He traced the letters on his chest. "And it wasn't so bad."

Jim perked up a bit. "I am?" He kissed the lettering. "I...I hurt you. I don't like that I did that."

"Yes, you are. And you did, but... you took care of me." He remembered Jim's words of encouragement, his gentle touch, washing him and dressing his wounds. "No one takes care of me, no one ever has. But you did. And you are. And it's amazing." He felt his eyes begin to water. "No one. Has ever done for me. What you have. And that's... you're my world now, Jim. My whole world."

"Oh, don't do that. Don't start, then I'll start up and we'll both be a mess," Jim said softly, holding the back of his head to his shoulder as he embraced him. "You’re my world too, darling."

John smiled, fighting back the tears. God, he was just so... happy. Happy for the first time since that first night in London. It was heaven here, with Jim. It was everything he'd ever needed.

Jim smiled back, shaking his head. "Going to turn me soft, John Watson."

John grinned. "Oh no. Whatever will I do?" He chuckled, pressing a kiss against Jim's skin. "We'll just have to work to keep you sharp." John winked at him, eager to tackle the next assignment. "So what are we doing tomorrow?"

"Getting your brains fucked out, that's what," he snickered. He grinned and kissed his cheek. "It's a surprise."

John blushed. "Damn. Alright, I'll try to be patient."

Jim giggled. "I know you will."

John nudged him gently. "What are we doing for the rest of today? Recovering?"

Jim smiled softly. "Whatever you want."

John "Mmm. Recovery, if that's okay. Don't want me all worn out for tomorrow." He tipped him a wink and stretched. "Want some tea? I need to clean up the dishes anyway."

Jim kissed his cheek, yawning a little. "Yes, tea sounds wonderful."

"Tea and then bed?”

Jim nodded eagerly. "Sounds wonderful,” he repeated.

John kissed his hand before ducking out of the room and heading to the kitchen, to put away the leftovers, soak the pan, and put on the kettle.

Jim grinned and giggled like mad when John left, burying his face in his pillow to do it. This was the best day of his life. No contest.

John returned fifteen minutes later with two hot cups of tea, closing the door with his hip before coming back to the bed. "Here you are, love," he said as he passed Jim his mug before climbing in beside him. "We drink, and then we sleep."

Jim sat up and took his mug. "Thank you," he said softly, blowing on the mug. "Mm, yes."

John took a drink, humming at the feel of the hot liquid. "Thank you, Jim. For today. For everything."

Jim smiled warmly at him, kissing his cheek as he took a drink. "You're more than welcome."

John blushed down at his cup. "This has just been... God, it's like every new day with you is the best day of my life."

Jim blushed in return. "Same goes for me, dear."

"I'm glad to hear that." He leaned against him, still sipping his tea, wondering how he could be so lucky.

Jim kissed his shoulder. "You're miraculous."

"Mm, thank you, darling." He finished his tea and set his mug on the end table, scooting down under the covers.

"You're more than welcome," Jim replied, wrapping his arm around his shoulders.

John rested his head against Jim, safe, home in his arms as he closed his eyes. "Goodnight, Jim. I love you."

Jim set his cup down and snuggled with him. "I love you too. Goodnight."

John fell into a restful sleep, beyond sated and eager for what the morning would bring. For the third night, he had no nightmares- though dark brown eyes did float through his mind, as well as a mischievous grin.

Jim slept just as peacefully, happy, calm and safe in John's arms. He'd never been more at ease.


	8. The Good Soldier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim sets his sights on taking down a man running a human trafficking ring, and lets John loose on him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should probably point out that A.) The violence is VERY graphic here, and B.) El Dorado is a thing with Jim and I, that came about in Chat-Verse canon. So we find ways to work it in, because it's like. It's just our thing. "Stars. Can't do it." "Not today."
> 
> Graphic warning for gore, cutesy warning for post-slaughter cartoons.
> 
> Also, I'd like to make an apology for the length of this chapter. There was no lazy nap, so I couldn't find a good place to cut it. I forced a cut about 8200 words in, but that means -technically- I have another two chapters ready to post.

John woke first with a sharp pain in his gut. He opened his eyes to find Jim curled against his chest, his knees pressing into John's stomach. The captain pressed a lingering kiss to Jim's forehead, content to lay there and watch him sleep- until he woke up or his alarm went off, whichever happened first.

Jim hummed softly at the touch in his sleep. He mumbled incoherently, shifting and throwing his arm around his waist.

John smiled down at him, body tingling where his arm rested. I sure hope I don't scare you today.

Jim grunted softly, eyes opening slightly. "Mm..."

"You're beautiful when you're sleepy," John said quietly, his smile widening.

Jim peeked up at him, smiling a little. "Thank you," he mumbled, voice thick with sleep. "You're beautiful all the time."

John snorted. "And you are too. Infuriatingly sexy. Always." God, listen to him. His voice is incredible. "When you feel more awake, want to join me for a shower?"

Jim nodded, nuzzling back into his chest. "Sounds good. Not too sore, are you?"

John chuckled. "That remains to be seen. Not enough to stop me, at any rate. I've been looking forward to whatever we're doing today for what feels like entirely too long."

Jim grinned. "Love how eager you are," he muttered, kissing his chest. "Let's go."

John stood and helped Jim to his feet, leading him to the shower. "I can't help it, I see the chance to show off for you, and it makes me giddy. ...That and the blood."

Jim giggled. "I know. No idea how good that makes me feel."

"What, me showing off for you? Being your obedient soldier?" He turned on the water and stepped in, pulling Jim against his body as soon as the man followed. "I like it too. As you can see I have a... a submissive streak."

"Yes, you showing off for me," Jim grinned, getting into the shower with him. "And I really, _really_ enjoy that submissive streak," he whispered, a soft growl to his tone.

John shivered, despite the temperature of the water. "Good, you're going to be seeing it a lot. I just... I love being able to give control over, to not have to worry, to take whatever I'm given..." He shifted his hips a little. "God, I can't wait. May I wash your hair again?"

Jim giggled, holding his hips. "Yes you may, darling."

John poured a little shampoo into his palms and worked it through Jim's hair, helping him rinse and following with the conditioner. "Still going to fuss with my hair this weekend?" He started to wash Jim's body while he waited for the conditioner to set.

Jim smiled, eyes closed. "Mm, going to have my way with that wardrobe of yours."

John grinned. "Going to get me away from the jumpers, into something more fitting to be seen in when out and about?"

Jim chuckled. "No, I'll get you into jumpers that were made in the past ten years that didn't belong to someone before you," he muttered. "And I swear, you say something about money... I was ready to pay a woman thirty million quid for a woman getting away with putting a painting up. I can afford some shirts, baby."

John blushed. "Yeah, you were. I've, um. I've never owned new clothes. Unless you count my uniform. Even my scrubs were second hand."

Jim shook his head. "It's not right, and I'm going to fix it. Kind of my thing, I fix things for people."

John worked the conditioner out of Jim's hair, remember Sherlock's words at the pool. "Dear Jim, please will you fix it for me?" It gave him a chill- he could practically feel the detective's sultry voice against his ear. "I'm going to use that. Make it one of our things. Reclaim it." _I can make it sexier than he could. I know I can. Erase him from the phrase._

Jim caught the shiver and knew he and John were thinking the same thing. He made an attempt to stifle his sneer, that jealousy welling inside of him again. "Yes, please do," he said darkly. _Fucking dark-haired, baritone fucker._

"You won't think of him when I'm moaning it on my hands and knees, hair slicked back with blood, begging for you." He kissed Jim's pulse and traded spots with him beneath the water.

 _It's not me I worry about._ "Fucking right I won't be. Like you better as it is."

John grinned. "And you will pull my hair, and growl 'just so'. And it will be ours."

Jim giggled. "Haven't thought about this at all, have you?" He chuckled.

John hummed as he began to wash himself. "Oh no, not one bit. Completely spur of the moment." He winked at Jim. "Been thinking it said it was spoken, honestly."

Jim watched him hungrily. "Mmn...what?" He shook his head. "Right, well," he chuckled, "Good."

John licked his lips. smirking. "Am I distracting you?"

"A little..." He admitted, still staring.

John chuckled. "Good. I'm glad." He rinsed the soap from his hair and body and pulled Jim close. "How long until we leave, and do you want to do something now, or wait until we're there?"

Jim shook his head to focus, losing it again when John was suddenly much closer. He slid hands down his chest, licking his lips. "Don't think I can keep my hands off you."

John shivered. "Good, I can't wait either." Keeping his hands on the small of Jim's back, he rolled their hips together. "Even just thinking about you makes me want you, Jim, my god. See what you do to me?"

Jim laughed low in his throat. "Oh, yes I do, love," he whispered, kissing him deeply. "Because the same damn thing happens to me."

John got another cold chill down his spine, one of the good kind. "Mmm... So what should we do, Jim? How do you want to fuck me this morning?"

"Against the tile of this goddamn shower," he snarled, biting at his lips.

"Put me where you want me and I'm all yours."

Jim turned him around and pressed him to the back of the shower. "Put your arms out," he whispered.

John did as he was told, holding himself up with his arms. Always have wanted to try this. Thankfully we're close to the same height.

Jim kissed and bit at the back of his neck and his shoulders, sucking the water off his skin. He slipped his fingers into the crevice of his arse, pressing against him. "Fuck... You always feel so good."

John let out a moan that echoed off the slick tile. "Do I, sir?" He looked over his shoulder through his wet lashes.

Jim growled low in his chest. Oh, that worked, very much so. "Yes, my darling, you do," he whispered, voice in his ear. "You gonna be a good boy and open up for me?" He breathed, pressing insistently. "Because you like being good for me, don't you?"

"Oh, yes sir. I love being good for you. You treat me so well when I am..." God, John had no idea where it was coming from, but it turned him on.

"Because good boys deserve to get rewarded, darling," he whispered, holding his hip and sliding a finger carefully inside him. "See? Look how easy that was. Such a good boy."

John whimpered, pressing back a little. "Uhn, yes sir, thank you. M-may I have more?"

Jim grinned. "Yes you may, baby. So polite..." He added another, scissoring in and out of him.

John shivered, his parted lips trembling as Jim fingered him. "Mm, thank you, it feels so good..."

"You're welcome." He moved harder, watching his body work.

John gasped, his eyes falling closed as he rocked back onto Jim's hand. "W-will you please add more?'

"Already?" He smiled, adding another.

John nodded. "Mmm, yes, I'm... I don't want to be greedy, sir, but I... I need it..."

"Need what?" He pressed, crooking his fingers against his prostate.

John gasped, his vision going white. "I need you, sir, inside of me. Oh..."

Jim slipped them out, lining his cock with his entrance. He slowly edged himself inside of him, whispering praises.

John moaned loudly, fingers clutching at the tile. "Oh, oh, Mr. Moriarty... Yes, yes, please, that's... uhn, that's what I need..."

" _Fuck_ , I love it when you call me that," he growled, lips beside his ear. He slowly started to move inside him.

John met his thrusts with a sort of shy enthusiasm, never quieting his noises as Jim began to claim him. "Ooohhhh... Do you, sir? I'll be sure to do it more often, then..." His legs trembled slightly, just a little. "You feel so good, Mr. Moriarty, so good inside of me."

Jim licked up John's spine, squeezing his hips. He bucked into him faster. "And you feel incredible, John. So good, so very good, baby," he snarled.

John let out a whimper at the feel of Jim's tongue against his skin. "If I'm good, sir, will you- will you touch me?" He matched Jim's pace eagerly, loving the sound of their wet skin coming together.

Jim grinned. "Yes, baby, of course I will." He started stroking him, hips rolling. "Ooh, such a good boy, John. So tight around me, my love."

"Mmf..." He bit his lip, lowering his head to watch Jim's hand move. "You make me feel so... so full, Mr. Moriarty, and so good, so very good, I- uhn, I want to be good for you..." It was becoming harder not to curse, Jim's movements driving him mad. John fought to keep his head clear, to keep up the act, because _fuck_ it was hot.

Jim moaned against his shoulder. "Fuck, you do. God, you feel so good, baby. You feel amazing." He bucked into him harder. "Gonna fill you up even more soon, baby."

John was starting to tremble, nearing the edge. "Please, Mr. Moriarty. Harder. Oh, p-please, harder!"

Jim obliged and bucked into him harder, licking his lips and driving into him. "Fuck, John...Good boy, good boy," he groaned, stroking faster.

John curved his back, shifting his hips to help Jim get deeper. And oh, fuck, it was perfect. "M-Mr. Moriarty, I'm... uhn, getting close..." It was wet, and rough, and John was loving it. "May I come for you, sir? Please?"

"Just a little longer, a little longer and you can come, John," Jim whispered, stroking and thumbing the head of his cock with a wicked grin. "I want you to come with me, dear. Just a moment."

John gasped. "Y-yes sir. Uhn, I'll come with you."

Jim hummed. "Oh, such a good boy. No whining or anything. Good boy..." He bucked faster, harder, their skin slapping together wetly. He moaned, head thrown back. "Come, John, you can come now. Oh, fuck!" He cried, releasing inside of him as John pulsed out his own release.

John came with him, shouting his name as he spilled over Jim's fist. His body trembled as he rested against the wall, panting, grinning. "Was that good, Jim?"

Jim laughed low in his throat, peppering his cheek with kisses. "That was beautiful, John. Fuck, you're hot."

John giggled. "And so are you, Mr. Moriarty." He lowered his voice to near a growl before turning around and pulling him into a proper kiss. "Ready to get cleaned up properly and head out?"

Jim shivered a little, kissing him. "God, I love that. Fuck, I do," he whispered. He nodded. "Yes, let's go."

John washed himself off and pressed his lips to Jim's cheek before stepping out of the shower and drying off. He walked into the bedroom and found something that fit him- a white tank top and a pair of jeans. Simple, but something familiar to him. It reminded him of off-days in Afghanistan. Before getting dressed he pulled on his new knickers, still dirty- the thought excited him. Besides, they were only going to get dirtier. _No point cleaning them twice in the same day_. When he was done he waited for Jim, grinning.

Jim smiled at the kiss and got himself washed. He stepped out of the shower and dried off, stepping into his room. He grinned at John when he did, chuckling. "How I'm going to keep my hands off of you is a damn mystery, Johnny boy," he remarked, grinning. He dressed himself in a trim black suit and the skull tie he'd worn at the pool. "Alright, love, ready?"

John looked at him, eyes traveling along his body. "God, you wear a suit well. Yes, fuck, I'm ready."

Jim took his hand and walked outside with him, smirking. He got into the car waiting for them, humming to himself.

John followed him, sliding in beside him, heart pounding. He was excited, cor, more than excited. Today he'd prove to Jim that he could handle the state of mind, that he wouldn't break, not again.

Jim turned his head and kissed his cheek. "You going to be alright this time, sweetheart?" He whispered.

John nodded. "I can do it this time. I can behave.”

"Nothing bad is going to happen if you don't. I'll just wait for you to calm down like I did last time. If that means I have to smack you around a bit, I will. But it's not going to make me leave you or anything," he assured.

John swallowed thickly, remembering Jim's hand on his throat through the fog, the anger at being treated like an attack dog... "I'll try to make sure it doesn't come to blows," he said quietly.

"Listen to me," Jim whispered, holding his cheek. "You're not a grunt to do my dirty work. You're a partner to do my dirty work." He smiled, teasing.

John smiled back. "I know. I promise, I'll get a handle on this. It's just... there's still a captain in me," he said, "that comes out when my heart is pounding and the scent of blood is strong. It's hard to explain. It's not, it's not multiple personalities, I just get into a mindset. And now that I know what will happen when it... when I get into it, I can try to combat it."

Jim nodded. "I understand." He dropped him a wink. "Just think of me as your commanding officer, then."

John chuckled. "I will."

"If that'll help, I mean."

"It will.”

Jim kissed his cheek again. "I keep my work and home life separate," he assured. "So try not to worry too much."

John smiled. "Alright. I won't."

Jim grinned when the car stopped outside a warehouse. "Okay, soldier, ready for the mission?"

John cracked his neck, closing his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, the blue seemed darker. "Yes, sir."

"Ooh, all business already..." He mused. "The motherfucker inside was running a human trafficking ring. I told him specifically that I would allow his gun and drug smuggling business to continue and I'd fund them accordingly, given that he shut the ring down. Obviously he hasn't. So..." He leaned close to him, whispering. "We're going to rip him apart."

John grinned wickedly. "Good. He deserves it."

"Goddamn right he does. I won't have people being forced into sexual endeavors." His eyes were black, lip twitching. He cracked his neck. "Ready to go, love?"

"Yes. Yes, I am." He was breathing heavily already, thumbing the safety off the gun Jim had given him. _I know how close to home this hits for him. I'm going to destroy this slaver, and I'm going to love it. I can't get my hands on the men who hurt him, but I can save more people from the same fate._

Jim shook his head and stepped out of the car, pushing a long, thin knife in John's hand. "No need for the gun, Johnny boy."

John turned the safety back on and took the knife, twisting the blade in the light. "Yes. No need." He licked his lips, pupils dilating despite the sun shining. He was going to enjoy this.

Jim saw the car the man brought and sighed. "Three bodyguards with him. Aren't anything close to your qualifications, should be no trouble. Take them first, he can't fight," he put his hand on the warehouse door. "Looks like you will need that gun."

John slipped the knife into his belt a little sadly and drew the gun. Safety- off. "Should I shoot on sight?"

Jim kissed him. "Let me talk a minute. See how long it takes him to understand he'll be dying today."

John nodded and tugged gently on Jim's lip with his teeth. "Just give me a sign. I won't act without it."

Jim growled softly, grinning. "I'll slap that pretty arse of yours," he nodded.

John chuckled darkly. "Yes, sir."

Jim opened the door, sauntering in with his usual swagger. "Gregory!" He boomed, grinning with John close behind him. The portly man spun around, three large men in tight black t-shirts standing around him. They were much taller than John, but Jim wasn't worried.

"M-Mr. Moriarty," he stammered. "I didn't think you'd be here i-in person." "Well, Gregory, people who go around misbehaving when they think no one's watching are a little irksome. But that's it, Gregory, daddy's had enough now," he sang, glancing at John. "What are you saying?" He breathed. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean-" "You didn't mean to be a greedy fucker, doing what I said not to? Did you honestly think you were going to get away with it?" He demanded. Gregory swallowed. Jim shook his head, clicking his tongue. "S-sir-" "No. Too late for that, I'm afraid." "What...what are you going to do?" Jim grinned, eyes glinting against the black canvas they'd become. "I'm not going to do anything," he assured. He slapped John on his arse. "But he is."

John let out a low growl at the contact, moving quickly. He raised his arm and barely looked, firing three quick shots. Two were head shots, one caught the third man through the throat. The third muscle-bound guard was alive, but not for long as he lay bleeding on the cement.

Jim grinned. "Johnny, boy, show Gregory what happens to people who don't listen to me."

John handed Jim his gun and pulled out the knife, stepping to the shorter, thicker man. He used the blade to sever the man's cheap suit, tearing the fabric and baring his chest. John's lip curled in a snarl as he looked him over. "Where would you like me to start, Mr. Moriarty?"

"Anywhere's fine," he said breezily, waving his hand. "I'm not wasting creativity on this fucker. Rip him apart, baby."

John grinned as he dropped to his knees, tearing the bastard's trousers with the edge of the blade, leaving him mostly naked. _Proprietor of rape and sexual slavery. He's not a man, he's a monster. Make him look like what he is, captain_. John felt revoking his manhood was a good place to start. He began sawing through the muscle of his cock, never flinching, even as the man let loose shrill shrieks of agony. Blood spurted across his hand, onto his bare skin, warm against him. When the meat was fully severed, he flung it across the room without a second thought. There was no point to using surgical precision- this thing didn't deserve it. Pain. It deserved pain. John did the same to his sac, utterly gone to the task at hand, deforming the 'Gregory' that had fallen to the floor in agony. Next John stuck the blade up beneath the soft, flabby flesh of his stomach and drew it along the curve of his body. Blood pooled beneath the prone, writhing, pitiful thing, but John ignored it. He could play later. He had to do a good job, if he wanted a reward. With a steady hand he reached into the cut, letting out a low growl as his fisted his fingers around the ropey intestines and began to pull them out. His hands slipped and slid along the organ, but he didn't care, and it didn't stop him. When the fleshy pink length was pulled to its limits he severed it with his blade, dropping them with a wet splash onto floor. The next cut he made was on the collar bone, pressing the knife deep and creating the typical autopsy Y in his chest. Screams faded to wet whimpers as he began to crack ribs and pull the man's chest apart, brow furrowed in concentration. Gregory was on his way out, and John didn't want to miss a golden opportunity. He reached into the cavity he'd created and gripped the heart beating weakly inside of him. The valves were too tough for him to sever without a blade, so he simply crushed. He crushed as tightly as he could, watching the life leave him. _You've got red on you, John._ When he released it, his arm was completely soaked with blood. _Not done_. He turned the blade on the corpse's face, sawing at the hinges of its jaw. Flesh and muscle and fat parted at his touch as he worked a ghastly, monstrous grin onto his face. John pried his eyes out, cut his tongue out, but left his ears. To the pain, he thought with a smirk. He was covered in blood and bile, chest heaving as he rose, looking down at his handiwork.

Jim rushed John as soon as he stood, slamming him into the wall and kissing him hard. He growled at the blood drenching his skin, how feral and primal he looked. Bloodthirsty, precise and so wonderfully obedient. "There it is," he hissed, licking his ear.

John groaned, kissing Jim back just as eagerly, body responding immediately. "Good?" And god, did he want it to be.

"Perfect. Such a good boy," he snarled, biting at his lips and kissing him roughly.

John let out a pleased moan. "Mmm, thank you, Mr. Moriarty..."

Jim ripped through his buttons and tossed his tie and jacket aside away from the carnage. He slid fingers down his soaked chest and arms, salivating. "You look so good in red, Johnny boy."

"Thank you," he breathed, pupils wide as he watched Jim move. "Is there anything else I can do for you?

Jim tore off his shirt. "You can let me fuck you like this," he breathed.

"Please, do." Fuck, Jim was beautiful like this. "Please fuck me."

"Get your fucking clothes off, then," he snarled, sliding his hands in his jeans and feeling the soft fabric of the knickers. He grinned.

John began stripping, tearing his blood-soaked tank and tossing it right into the blood smeared across the floor. He removed his denims quickly, tossing them more carefully to a cleaner section of the concrete. "Panties on or off?"

"On, I want them on," he breathed. He shoved him against the wall again and dropped to his knees, moving the front of the knickers out of the way and taking John's length into his mouth.

John gasped raggedly, and slammed his head back against the wall, looking down at Jim as he sank into that warm mouth. "Oh, fuck, that's- Mmf..."

Jim swallowed around him, sucking eagerly with nails dragging down his legs.

John arched his back, letting out a low growl as Jim left red scratches on his skin. "M-Mr. Moriarty..." The innocent tone from the shower was gone, replaced with pure John, dripping with need. "So good, so god damned good, thank you..."

Jim pulled off with a gasp. "And you're welcome, darling. Such a good boy for me, it's only fair." He took him all the way in again, swallowing and moving his tongue.

John shuddered, still watching, utterly at the mercy of his (master) lover. "Mmm, oh, fuck, you give me the best rewards, why wouldn't I be good f-for you?"

"Precisely," he breathed. He hummed around his length, swallowing again.

John scratched at the wall behind him, eyes falling closed as he lost himself to Jim's throat. His noises became more unintelligible, more primal as that wicked mouth claimed him.

Jim pulled off with a gasp, coming up to kiss him deeply. "How do you think you taste?" He growled.

John sucked Jim's tongue into his mouth with a groan. "Fucking wonderful," he said coyly. "I hope you think so too."

"Oh, yes, baby, I do," Jim whispered. He shucked off his trousers and lowered his pants. He hooked his arms under the back of John's legs, hoisting him up the wall, both of them wet with blood, and kissed him eagerly. "You want more?"

John nodded, amazed again by his strength as he slid up the wall. "Yes, please. Please, please give me more."

"Want me to fuck you against the wall, baby? All dirty and drenched like this? Is that what you want?"

John licked his lips and looked down at him, something gleaming in his dark blue eyes. "I want you to fuck me against the wall, Mr. Moriarty. Bloody and filthy, as hard as you can. I would also accept the floor, right in the mess I made."

Jim shoved himself inside of him, fucking him hard immediately. "Fuck, John, god..."

John gasped, digging his fingertips into Jim's back. He was glad he was still open from the shower. "Oh, fuck! Jim, yes, god, don't stop, please!"

Jim ground into him, hard, gasping out his name in harsh breaths. "Fuck, John, I won't. Absolutely no way."

John moaned loudly as Jim slammed upward again and again. The rough walls scratched his back, but it only urged him on. He rocked with Jim, throwing his head back and growling his name as he took him again and again, his own cock hard and wet between them. "Uhn, god, you're fucking incredible. I, mmf, I love it when you fuck me, I love the way you feel inside me... Make me scream for you, Jim."

Jim snarled as he bucked harder, groaning. "So tight...Feels so fucking good, John. Ohn..." His head fell in his shoulder, biting at his skin and his scar.

"Oh, oh, FUCK!" He saw white as Jim worked his sensitive skin, teeth pinching and tongue licking as he rode out his thrusts. "JIM," he shouted, the fingertips clutching at Jim's bare skin turning to nails as he began to unravel. "JIM!" His voice echoed through the room, the coppery scent of blood almost cloying, mixing with the scent of their sweat.

Jim grinned, biting at his neck before sucking the scar again. "That's right, scream for me. You scream my name, Johnny boy..." He growled, finding his prostate and pounding against it.

John began to tremble, mind unable to form anything coherent past strings of curses and Jim's name. His muscles started to tense, but he didn't want it to be over that soon. John needed more, needed to be fucked raw, needed Jim. "Ohn, Jim! Jim, fuck, fuck yes, there, that's... Mmmf, JIM!" His cries were shaking and desperate, signs of how near he was to the edge.

"There's a good boy. Such a good boy... You want to come, John? Want to come for being a good boy for me?" He whispered, fucking into him so hard he wondered if he'd bruise.

"Yes, yes I do! I, uhn, fuck, please, may I? May I come? I've, mm, I've been so good, please..."

"You have been so good, baby. Come for me, you come for me, John," Jim growled, incredibly close himself, sweat and blood mingling with them.

John brought his hips down to meet Jim's, his hands digging scratches into Jim's back as he thrust harder. "Uhn, Jim, Jim, Jim... Going to come for you, going to- to... Oh, fuck, JIM!" His back bent as he came between them, body aching from the force. But, fuck, it felt incredible.

Jim was right behind him, snarling his name into his ear as he shot inside of him. He moaned aloud, shuddering against him. "Christ, that was beautiful."

John fell back against the wall, limp. "Fuck, yes it was. Won't be able to walk right for a day or so, I bet." He chuckled and let go of Jim's back, smoothing his hair. "I love you."

Jim giggled, slowly lowering him to the floor and holding him. "I love you too. So much. You alright?"

John sank down to a sitting position and let out a ragged breath, slicking his sweat-and-blood caked hair back on his head. "Might need help to the car. After I'm dressed."

Jim got to his knees in front of him, holding his face. "I'll help you, love."

John grinned. "Thank you. Just tell me when I need to get dressed."

Jim kissed his forehead. "If I had it my way it'd be never," he grinned. "Just a moment." He stood, dressing himself, tie loose around his neck as he grabbed John's clothes and helped him into them. "Alright, love. Home, shower, sleep," he giggled. "My incredible doctor."

"Mmm, your incredible doctor who left DNA all over the crime scene," he said as he wiped the blade of his knife on his jeans and tucked it back into his belt. He turned the safety on for his gun and put it in his holster.

Jim waved it away. "I've got the best clean-up crew in London," he assured, wrapping an arm around his waist and helping him outside into the dusk.

John was, to his credit, only limping a little. His tattered shirt hung loose around his chest, almost entirely stained red. He climbed into the car and winced as he sat. "Worth it," he said when he saw the concern flash across Jim's eyes.

"I'll take care of you," he whispered, kissing his hair.

"You always do, love." John leaned his head on his shoulder and closed his eyes. I did it. I kept it under control.

"I know you're not a ten year old that needs to hear this, but I'm proud of you," he said, smiling gently.

John chuckled. "I like the praise. Thank you." Making Jim proud was... god, it felt good.

"Good. I like praising you," he smiled, pulling his head to his shoulder. "Get you a nice hot bath and some tea when we get home."

John hummed softly. "I will definitely need both of those." He giggled, thinking about it. "Water's going to be red."

"Bath and a half," Jim chuckled.

John grinned. "I'm not... Not too violent, am I? I just. He deserved it, for putting people through that..."

Jim shook his head, lips beside his ear. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For doing what you did in my name," he breathed.

John lifted his head and looked at him. "You're welcome, Jim. You're very, very welcome."

Jim smiled a little. "I got a few of them, you know," he said quietly. "No way in hell I could get all of them."

John cupped his jaw in a blood-caked hand. "I'm glad you got some of them, at least. I wish I could get the rest. I'd bring you their heads in a heartbeat."

Jim smiled weakly. "Too many to know where to begin, love."

"Doesn't matter. If it took me a lifetime, I would do it. For you.”

Jim kissed him gently. "You're too good to me."

"And still, I wish I could be better." He nuzzled against his nose for a moment before leaning back to look him in the eyes. "You deserve so much, Jim, and I'm trying to make sure you get all of it."

"You're doing wonderful, love. You're giving me everything I could ever want and more. You're perfect, John," he whispered, kissing him gently, smiling at him.

John returned the expression. "So are you, Jim. Absolutely perfect."

"Thank you." He looked up at the house when they pulled to the curb, helping John out and inside.

John let Jim lead him to the bathroom, still limping, and blushing red enough to match the blood stuck to his body.

Jim turned and looked at him. "Baby, why are you blushing?"

"Because I look like I fell out of Silence of the Lambs and I'm walking like I've never been more thoroughly fucked," he replied with a sheepish grin.

"I think you look beautiful," Jim said softly. He helped him out of his clothes. "Alright, just the initial hose-off with the shower head then in the bath, okay?"

John snorted. "I look beautiful too. I'm just very glad you have no neighbors." He stepped into the tub and nodded. "Bring it on."

Jim giggled. "Well, this isn't my only house..." He smirked. He rolled up his sleeves and took down the shower head, hugging John to him while the water rinsed most of the blood that hadn't dried yet.

John leaned against him, giggling. "I keep forgetting you're made of money. Probably for the best, don't want it going to my head, do we?"

"Thirty million quid. Fake painting. Definitely made of money," he grinned."And I think that going to your head is okay in small doses."

"I'm not a gold digger. Like I said. I'm fixing your tea collection. Going to be living with a Brit, going to need to do better than one package of black tea."

Jim chuckled. "I know you're not, trust me." He rolled his eyes. "Well, my whiskey collection's impressive."

John pressed a kiss to his cheek as the water washed over his back. "Well that's a step in the right direction, then."

Jim smiled and shut the water off, waiting for it to drain before he ran it again, starting a bath for him.

John sat down in the tub with a smile. "I love you."

Jim shut off the water and grinned back. "I love you too."

John started to wash, watching the water turn red as he scrubbed.

"You are alright, aren't you? I didn't hurt you, did I?"

John blushed. "I'm sore, but I like it. Fuck, you were incredible. Didn't even need to touch me."

Jim giggled. "No, I suppose I didn't," he smiled, helping him wash his hair.

John hummed as his fingers massaged his scalp.

Jim kissed his hair. "So, tea and telly after this?"

John nodded. "That sounds lovely. You pick today, though."

Jim blushed. "Make the man that doesn't know shit about entertainment today pick," he muttered.

John chuckled. "Alright, alright, but you're going to get tired of my tastes. I can, and will, turn on cartoons."

Jim barked a laugh. "You would."

John snorted, blushing a little. "That a problem?"

Jim shook his head. "Of course not. It's cute."

John grinned. "I think we could use a little cute after some violence and gore. ANything else I put on after that would be boring."

Jim chuckled. "True."

John finished rinsing his hair and sat up, glancing down at the stained water. "Going to leave a ring," he remarked.

Jim kissed his cheek. "Don't worry. I don't mind cleaning. Ready to get out?"

John nodded. "Yeah, I am. Would you, um. Help me? I could use an anchor."

"Of course," he smiled, holding his hands out and allowing him to use him as leverage.

John rose, the bloodstained water dripping from his body as he dried himself off. There was red left on the towel by the time he was finished, but he didn't mind. "Sorry, um. About the shirt."

Jim shook his head, kissing his cheek. "It's just a shirt."

"I know, and I don't really regret it. Made me feel like a badass." He chuckled. "It's habit, though. Been ingrained in me since I was a child I need to apologize. Even for costing you... what, pennies, in comparison to the rest of your money?"

Jim giggled. "If that," he smiled, walking with him into the bedroom. "Now, if it were something I'd had tailored I'd be a little irked. Sitting through that is absolutely exhausting."

John walked into the bedroom, towel wrapped around his waist. "Should I put clothes on?"

"Maybe some pants," he said, guiding him to the bed and kissing his forehead.

John nodded and sat down. "Nothing too tight," he said with a blush. "Although I'm a bit bigger than you. Might need to go shopping."

"I've got boxers that'll fit you," he nodded. Jim went to the dresser and handed a pair to him. "And we'll go shopping when you're better."

John snorted. "I'm sore, I'm not bedridden, love."

Jim chewed his lip. "I worry."

John tilted his head to the side. "Why?"

"Because, I...I've never had someone that I cared about before. And I...I don't want anything to happen to you," he said softly.

John smiled warmly and patted the bed next to him. "Come here, Jim."

Jim sat beside him, feeling stupid.

John pulled him close, pressing a kiss to his throat. "I love that you want to take care of me. I've never... I've never had anyone willing to do that for me. I've pretty much been on my own since I moved out. So don't be embarrassed, okay? It's sweet, and it makes me feel really good."

Jim wrapped his arms around him, hugging him tight. "Okay then. I'll keep worrying about you, then."

John nuzzled against him. "Good. Thank you."

"You're more than welcome, sweetheart," he whispered.

John smiled. "I hope you'll let me mother over you this much if you get sick or anything.”

Jim chewed his lips a little. "Never had anyone take care of me."

"Well if you should ever need it, god forbid, I'll be here. To make you tea, and give you a bath, and tuck you into bed."

"Sometimes I wonder if you're an angel," he said, smiling gently.

John blushed. "If I am, I'm your angel."

"Good."

John pulled on his boxers and pulled Jim back on the bed. "I love you."

Jim crawled onto the covers with him. "I love you too."

John covered his chest with kisses, smiling. "I'm glad."

Jim "You make it impossible not to."

John giggled. "I'm evil that way."

"Apparently so," he grinned, burying his face in his neck and kissing him repeatedly.

John hummed happily, giggling when it tickled. "You're the best. And not just for all the incredible sex."

"Oh, thank god," he smiled.

John pulled him closer. "Ready for telly?"

Jim nodded and pushed the remote in his hand, face still resting in his neck.

John chuckled, turning on the rarely-used bedroom television. "Mm. Point of order- can I purchase from on-demand?"

Jim nodded, kissing his cheek. "Of course you can."

"Thank you." As someone who'd never had cable before, John was eager to play with it. He flipped through the potential on-demand films, a broad smile breaking across his face. "We're watching this." John ordered it and laid back on the bed proper, pulling Jim up with him. When they were leaning on the pillows, he hit play. The doctor was very, very fond of The Road to El Dorado.

Jim rolled his eyes, peppering his cheeks with kisses. "You, are, so, cute." He mumbled between them.

John giggled. "Not weird, is it?"

Jim shook his head, giggling. "No. It's adorable."

John flushed a little and put his arm around Jim. "Mutilation, sex, cartoons... I'm the full package." He snorted.

Jim smiled. "You're wonderful."

"And so are you." He hummed along with the intro music happily.

Jim hummed back. "I love Elton John."

John nuzzled against his hair. "Good."

"Oh, is that the deal breaker?" He giggled.

"Can't abide a lover with terrible music tastes."

Jim sighed. "I hope the Beegees are acceptable."

John giggled. "You're fine. Promise."

Jim blew air through his lips as a mock sigh of relief. "Thank god."

John kissed his head and watched the movie with a broad smile.

"I'm pretty sure the horse is the highlight of this film."

John snorted. "Antivo's pretty great, but if you ask me? It's all about Miguel."

"You just say that because you looked like him in uni," Jim snickered.

"I did not, I swear! My hair was only... a quarter of that length. And I don't really grow facial hair. Except mustaches. I hate them."

Jim giggled. "Uh huh, sure..." He teased.

John "It's true! Uni was... christ, the nineties. I was in my Britpop phase. Wanted to be Damon Albarn. Even got my ear pierced. At a rave."

Jim laughed. "Sorry, sorry. That's perfect. God, why would it be anything else?"

John smacked lightly at his arm. "It's not funny! I looked great!"

"I know you did. I'm sure Nick Carter thought so too!" He broke into another fit of giggles, kissing his cheek. "I'm sure you were very handsome."

John groaned. "I didn't frost my hair or anything! It was just shaggy. Artfully so."

Jim kissed him. "I'm sure it was, darling."

John kissed him back, pouting.

"Oh...stop," he smiled, tickling his sides.

John couldn't help but laugh, slapping playfully at his hands.

Jim grinned. "God, you're adorable."

John blushed and pulled a pillow over his head, hiding. "No."

Jim ducked his own head under the pillow and kissed him gently. "Yes you are."

John giggled and kissed him back. "Well, okay. If you say so. I might be able to live with that."

"I hope you can," he grinned, kissing his cheek and running fingers through his hair.

John sighed happily, closing his eyes. "I love you."

Jim nuzzled their noses together. "I love you too."

"What day is tomorrow?"

"Friday," he smiled.

"Mm, and what are we doing Friday?"

"Another surprise," Jim replied. "And then we're going shopping.”

John giggled. "Sounds wonderful. Shopping or surprise first?"

"Surprise first," he smiled.

"Alright. I think I can handle that," John said with a smile. "What are we shopping for?"

Jim kissed him. "You need clothes."

John blushed again. "Oh, right. yeah, I do."

"Much as I love you wearing my clothes, it's not fair that you have to keep wearing clothes that don't belong to you," he smiled, kissing his forehead.

"Yeah. I don't want to be trouble. Also, you're slimmer than I am."

"Trouble? Baby, you're not trouble."

"Are you sure?"

"Sweetheart, of course I'm sure," Jim said with a smile, holding his cheek. "I love you, you'll never be 'trouble.'"

"Alright," he said, leaning into his touch. "I believe you."

"Good." He pulled John into his arms, moving the pillow so they could see the telly again. "I just want you to be happy."

John let him remove him from his impromptu fort, settling against his chest. "...You make me happy."

Jim brightened. "I do?"

John "Christ, yes, you do. I haven't been this happy since coming back to London."

Jim smiled. "Good. That's good. I'm glad I can be that for you."

"You're a lot of things for me."

"Oh?"

"Mm, yes. Should I list them all?"

Jim chewed his lip. "If you would. I've never been anything for anyone, let alone more than one thing."

John cupped Jim's face and met his eyes. "Jim Moriarty. You're my happiness. You're the only man in the world to me. You're my first real relationship since before I went into the service. You are my master, you are my best friend, you are my lover, you are the sun in my sky, you're the reason I get out of bed in the mornings. You keep my nightmares away. You're the first man I've truly been with. You... You let me be myself. Even though myself is somehow both violent and cuddly, this weird conundrum of parts. You are everything to me, Jim."

Jim chewed his lip, tears in his eyes. "You're a fucking sap, you know that?" He teased, smiling. He hugged him, kissing him deeply. "You're everything to me too, you know that? Absolutely everything."

John faked a sigh, kissing the corner of Jim's eye. "Oh, dear, you'll just have to deal with it." Everything... He rested his forehead against Jim's, remembering the jealousy he felt in the pool, the game between two men whom he didn't exist for. _And one of them saw. One of them saw me, and said, 'him'. And it was the best thing to ever happen to me._ "That feels... really, really, um. Incredible," he said with a weak chuckle. "Most amazing thing I've ever heard."

Jim kissed him again. "Well you're the most amazing thing I've ever seen, so it's only fair."

John felt his own eyes begin to water. "Even covered in gore?"

"Especially covered in gore," he whispered, kissing him gently.

John chuckled. "Good. Some day I'd like to see you the same way."

Jim grinned. "I'll work on that."

John blushed. "Okay.

Jim looked back at the screen, cuddling him close, unable to stop smiling.

John snuggled against Jim, wondering how he could be this lucky for the first time in his life.

Jim laughed at the film. "God, that is my favorite part," he smiled, smoothing John's hair.

"I missed my favorite part, but it's my own fault."

"What is it?" Jim asked, smiling at him.

John bit his lip. "Stars. Can't do it."

"Not today," Jim finished, looking down at him.

John looked up into Jim's dark eyes, his own threatening to fill with tears. "Yes. Perfect. Absolutely perfect."

Jim kissed his cheek. "Yes you are."

John chuckled. "I was referring to you. And that. Just feels. Complete. When you finish it."

Jim smiled. "It does, doesn't it?" He giggled.

John kissed his chest. "Should have kidnapped me sooner. Then the wooing could have happened earlier. Though, I suppose, I needed to impress you first." He grinned. "Which I apparently did in two ways."

Jim hummed. "Mm, that you did, darling. Very much so."

"I'm glad. I would have been miserable without you."

"Sherlock really that bad?"

"I... As a friend, he was... there? Sort of? He faked it pretty decently. And like I said we never... he never... He never saw me. I would have stayed by his side, ever the pet-" He spat the word as if it tasted foul. "-And I'd go through relationship after relationship, he'd chase them all away and I'd let him, until your problems came to a head and he'd either leave or die. And then I'd be alone again, invisible as always, limping through life until I died old and alone." He couldn't see, his vision blurred by tears he fought not to blink away. "I would be nothing. I would never be important to anyone. No family, no friends, just a lonely old soldier, mentally unstable. Probably shoot myself. Or at least think about it, really hard. Might even sit with the gun in my mouth for three, four hours a night. But I'd be too dedicated to hand I'd been dealt to do it."

Jim held John's hands in his own, kissing his fingers. "Well there'll be none of that, will there?" He whispered. "Just you and me, none...none of that, okay?" He said, eyes pleading. "You're important to me. And in all fairness, I meant that he was the pet, not you."

John smiled though the tears clinging to his lashes. "No. There will be none of that. Because you saw me. And you saved me." His last admission caught John off guard. "You... meant him?"

"Good," Jim nodded, licking his lips. "Please, like you were his pet, come now." He shook his head. "No, he's an idiot that followed you around and you got attached. Kept you from seeing me. Well, until it counted."

"Oh, I saw you," John said quietly. "The moment you entered the lab. You didn't leave a fleeting impression on me, Jim. I thought about you, that night. And when you grabbed me in front of the flat... Believe me. You had my attention."

"You thought about me after the hospital?" He asked, smiling a little.

John nodded sheepishly. "Yes, I did. Little jealous, at first, you slipping Sherlock your number. I was proud of Molly, too, managing such a good-looking catch. And then I thought about how you weren't really into her, but Sherlock- More jealousy, because I have to work for people to be interested, at least now, at thirty-seven. But then it... I kept thinking about the way your shirt clung to you, how you looked at me... and there was something, in the way you looked at me, almost like the act was slipping. Sherlock, for all he noticed, missed that. Too busy working. And Molly was too distraught by Sherlock's analysis. But I saw, and it... it gave me goosebumps, the... the good kind. And I... thought about you the rest of the night."

"Mm, yes, I saw how you were talking for him. Controlling the situation... I also knew I had to have you. Or use you to get to Sherlock. I knew that would work too," he chuckled. "Incidentally I went with both."

"I'm glad you did. Go with both, that is."

"My only regret is that I didn't blow you in the car like you wanted."

John managed to choke on absolutely nothing. "I didn't- I wasn't... Sod!" He turned a rather unflattering shade of red and covered his face.

Jim giggled. "Yes you were!" He grinned, moving his hands and kissing his nose. "Cor, I thought about it. Thought about fucking you in that dressing room too. Wanted to show you how much you wanted me."

John swallowed. "Christ, you should have. Would have saved you a lot of trouble. But then, I wouldn't have this." He traced the scars on his chest with a quiet moan. "But god, it would have been nice. Make him see, see that I was yours..."

Jim chuckled. "John, you were mine before we left the pool."

John licked his lips. "I know. I was yours when you got me into the car. I just didn't want to admit it."

"But you did." Jim kissed his cheek. "Just took you a minute."

"And now you're stuck with me."

"Good," he beamed. "I was growing tired of being alone anyway."

"And now you'll never be alone."

"Neither will you."

John smiled. "Thanks to you."

Jim grinned. "You helped."

John pressed a quick kiss to hip lips. "I love you."

Jim kissed back, holding him there longer. "I love you too."

John looked into Jim's eyes, smiling. "After shopping, can we go out tomorrow night?”

"Out where?" He smiled.

John licked his lips. "Um. Maybe. I don't know. I just. A date?"

Jim chuckled and sat up a little. "Yes, baby, I understand the concept, but where?"

"Um. Club?"

Jim giggled. "Oh?"

"Yeah, like. Dancing."

Jim hummed softly. "You want to dirty dance with me, John?"

John blushed. "Um. Yes."

Jim kissed his cheek. "Sounds fun."

John bit his lip. "Fantastic."

Jim kissed him. "You didn't think I'd turn you down, did you?"

John smiled. "Sort of did."

Jim kissed him again. "How on earth could I say no to that face?”

John blushed. "I have no idea."

Jim kissed his forehead. "Well there you go."

John settled back, unable to keep himself from grinning. "Wait, shouldn't... Are we going to get cleaned up after work?"

"Won't need it, love."

"Oh. Um. Alright."

Jim kissed his cheek. "Don't worry, it'll be fun."

"Fun without making a mess? Is that true?" He giggled.

"We won't be making a mess on us," he said pointedly.

"Oh! Oh, alright." He pulled Jim closer. "I can't wait."

Jim nuzzled his face into his chest, sighing softly.

John turned back to the movie, nearing its end. "When should we sleep?"

Jim shrugged. "Whenever you want to sleep."


	9. We're In This Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The conclusion of the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the short section of the last chapter that I severed, to make it less of a behemoth to read. You know what comes after they sleep?
> 
> Shopping.

John grinned and rolled over, holding himself over Jim's chest. "I'd like to ask your permission for something."

"Alright," he agreed, smiling up at him.

John licked his lips. _You can do this_. "Talking about the night at the pool got me... thinking... And I was wondering if you'd let me do something for you."

Jim nodded. "Okay... What is it, love?"

John flushed a little redder. "I don't want you to be uncomfortable. But may I... may I..." He kissed him, gathering his courage. "Would you let me eat you out?"

Jim swallowed, eyes growing, surprised. "Well that was...the last thing I thought you were going to say," he chuckled. "Um, sure. I think, uh...I think I can do that."

John smiled. "Mm, thank you." He pulled him into a gentle kiss."

Jim kissed him back, holding his face, humming quietly.

John nuzzled against him. "I love you, Jim."

Jim smiled gently. "I love you too."

John slipped out of his hand and kissed a trail down his chest, pausing to lavish attention against his collarbone as his hands caressed his sides. He loved the sounds Jim made, the breathless gasps and low whines as he moved to lick at his nipple. It was beautiful; _he_ was beautiful.

Jim lost himself in John's mouth, tangling fingers in his hair just to feel the cornsilk slip through them. He gasped at the attention he was receiving, moaning softly at the touches and whining into his mouth. "John..." He moaned, breathless and at his mercy.

John tongued at Jim's navel, his fingers tugging lightly at his pyjamas. "May I?"

Jim shivered and nodded. "Yes, you may," he gasped.

John tugged them down, kissing his hips and biting gently at the bone. He nudged Jim's legs up, slipping his trousers off his feet and massaging his thighs. John licked across Jim's sac before dropping lower, running his tongue along his cleft and slowly rolling it against his scarred muscle.

Jim groaned, naked against the sheets with John's beautiful hands on his legs. His back arched slightly off the bed, trembling a little. He whimpered, hands gripping the sheets. "That-that doesn't bother you?"

John paused. "No. It doesn't." He licked again, smiling. "I can't fix it, Jim, but I can sure try." He pressed against him, feeling him slowly opening beneath his attentions.

Jim's eyes rolled back into his head, so very thankful for this man. "God, John, yes..." He whimpered, shivering.

John hummed softly, tongue working in circles as his hands kneaded Jim's legs. He began to press in, groaning at the slightly metallic taste of his skin.

Jim moaned, legs spreading further. "Mmn...John..." He shuddered under his touch, whining and writhing back into his mouth.

John licked into him, moaning quietly, cursing the shortness of his tongue.

Jim rocked back with a little more urgency. "Please, John, more, oh fuck..."

John let go of one of his thighs, wrapping his hand around Jim's cock and stroking in time with his tongue.

Jim gasped. "Yes, oh fuck, yes, John. I love your mouth, I love your hands. God!" He moaned, wanton and begging.

John began to work a little faster, wondering if he could bring Jim off from just that. He worked his jaw, pressing his chin against him as he started to roll his tongue.

Jim's breath hitched, a blush rising in his cheeks as sweat worked over his brow. "John, Christ, that feels so good..."

John smiled against him, squeezing his palm gently on every upstroke as he licked and sucked at his entrance.

Jim moaned louder, breath coming in shorter gasps.

"Mm..." He picked up speed, moaning low in his throat, his noises very familiar.

"Oh, John, I'm already close. Oh god, that mouth of yours is either godsend or _sin_!" He gulped, arching off the bed again.

John had never heard anything so absolutely arousing in his entire life. He became more earnest, tongue fucking into him recklessly as he pumped his arm.

Jim whimpered, groaning and sweating. He rocked into him, whining, searching for purchase. "More, more, please, fuck!"

John moaned loudly, working to bring him over the edge. His face was wet, his hand squeezing just a little tighter, twisting his head on the upstroke and pressing as deep inside of him as he could.

Jim gave a few more soft shouts before screaming John's name and coming over his fist. "JOHN!" He shouted, fingers tangled in his hair and tugging.

John slowed his tongue, gently slipping out of Jim's body before lifting his hand and licking it clean, eyes never leaving Jim's.

Jim growled. "Fuck, what you do to me, Dr. John Watson."

John smiled and licked his stomach clean before collapsing beside him. "Mmm. Thank you."

Jim smiled back, chuckling low in his throat. "I love you."

"I love you too, Jim." He rested his head on his shoulder, wrapping his arm over his chest. "Good?"

Jim giggled, giddy. "Fucking amazing, more-like."

John blushed. "I'm glad."

"Me too," he smiled, kissing his neck.

John chuckled. "Wanna know a secret?"

"You know I do."

"You are absolutely delicious."

Jim blushed. "Thank you so much."

John kissed his ear. "You're welcome, darling."

Jim cleared his throat. "And you're...you're sure it doesn't bother you?"

"Not bothered by it at all. Do you need proof?"

"I guess," he whispered, embarrassed.

John curled against him, pressing his hips forward. "You can feel how it doesn't bother me."

Jim flushed. "Alright. I believe you."

John hummed softly. "Good." He pulled back slightly and crossed his thighs, kissing Jim's shoulder. "Want me to get your pyjamas for you?"

Jim chuckled. "If you like."

John crawled down the bed and retrieved them. He slipped them up his legs, smiling. "There you go."

Jim smiled at him. "You're so sweet."

John kissed his knee and laid back down. "I'm sweet, and if you tell me to be, dangerous." He smiled. "It's nice that you let me be both."

Jim smiled softly. "I'll let you be whatever you want to be.”

"I want to be myself. And god, you let me."

Jim grinned. "Well, that's what I like about you the most."

John blushed and buried his face in Jim's neck. "We should eat at some point."

Jim nodded. "Mm, right. Food."

John chuckled. "Sorry, love. Running on empty now.”

Jim whined. "Let's order pizza or something, I don't want you away from me."

John grinned. "You? Pizza? I don't believe it. Let's do it."

"Oh, I"m not that big of a snob, am I?" He sighed.

John giggled. "Not a snob! Just... fancy."

"Oh, a snob in a nice way," he teased, kissing his cheek. "But I think pizza sounds divine."

John blushed. "Sorry," he said quietly. "I agree. Pizza. Although you're going to laugh when you hear my preferred toppings."

Jim chuckled. "Probably."

John moved to rest his cheek against Jim's stomach. "Bacon and pineapple."

"See? That's not too bad," he chortled.

John craned his neck back to look up at him. "Not too bad? Really?"

Jim shook his head. "No. I put honey in spaghetti."

"...That. Sounds delicious.”

"It is," Jim giggled. "Weird, though."

"Mm. Not weird. Creative."

Jim smiled. "Good word for it. You get to order, you're closer to the phone."

John groaned. "Where is it?"

Jim curled his legs up to his chest. "On the dresser."

John nodded and rose, walking to the dresser. "Any preference where it's ordered from? And also, what do you want?"

"Should be a number in the caller-ID. And just pepperoni for me, thank you."

John dialed the number and placed their order, smiling at the person on the other line before hanging up and setting it back down. "Forty-five minutes at the most."

Jim sighed, sliding to the end of the bed on his stomach, smiling up at him.

John grinned and leaned down, kissing his forehead. "Hello, beautiful. I love you.”

Jim smiled wider. "I love you too."

John sat down beside him and brushed his fingertips along Jim's back. "What should we do while we wait?"

Jim nuzzled his head into his lap. "No idea," he said wryly.

"Oh?" He stroked his hair, smiling. "No ideas in that beautiful brain of yours?"

Jim slid his hand inside his shirt, nosing at his lower belly. "Mm, maybe a few."

John hummed softly. "Surprises, or are you willing to tell me?"

Jim pushed him back onto his elbows, grinning. He tugged at the waistband of his pajamas with his teeth.

John let out a quiet groan, letting him undress him with a dark gaze.

Jim slipped them off of his hips and kissed down his stomach. "I believe I owe you one."

John shivered a little. "Mmm, I wouldn't say that. But I'm not going object, either."

Jim smirked against his hip bone, chewing softly. "Mmn, I didn't expect so."

John leaned his head back, letting out a soft moan. "Oh, fuck, Jim... I love that..."

Jim suckled at his skin with a soft moan, holding his hips.

John looked down at him through his lashes, whimpering quietly. Jim's warm mouth was driving him mad.

Jim sucked down to brush his lips against his arousal with a moan.

John let out a loud gasp, twitching at the slight friction.

Jim took his head into his mouth, suckling softly and looking at him through his lashes.

John licked his lips, breathing out a quiet moan as he watched. "God, Jim..." It felt incredible, and the... fuck, the sight of him, dark eyes focused on him, lips wrapped around him...

"Just like you wanted me at the pool, right love?" He breathed, pulling off with a pop and stroking him.

John was quite sure he was going to die. "Fuck, yes... You were kneeling in front of me, strapping on the bomb..."

Jim lapped at his member, grinning softly. "And oh how you wanted me to rip your trousers off and put your dick in my mouth with Sherlock yammering outside..." He said softly, eyes dark as he stared up at him.

John shivered. "The thought crossed my mind. But what I really wanted?" He drug his teeth across his bottom lip, lashes fluttering. "I wanted you to fuck me before you sent me out. Leave me utterly wrecked, unable to hide it from him. He'd see every crease in my clothes, every messy strand of hair..."

Jim grinned. "Oh, I should have. Left you with your dick out just to make it that obvious," he whispered, taking him all the way to his stomach and swallowing.

John arched his back, cursing loudly at the sudden sensation. "Fuck, Jim!" He was beautiful, every inch of John disappearing into his pink lips, and it was very nearly overwhelming.

Jim pulled back again. "So many things I thought about doing that I get to do now..." He hummed, licking at his slit between words.

John whimpered, releasing a ragged breath through his nose. "L-like what, Jim?"

"Like fucking you right in front of Sherlock..." He hummed, suckling on his head a little.

John moaned, knotting his fists in the sheet. "Oh, fuck... That, uhn, fuck- is that. On the list of things. Going to... going to do now?"

Jim chucked, mouthing over his cock. "You want me to fuck you in front of Sherlock?"

John swallowed. "Y-yes. Want to show off. Show off what you do to me..."

Jim brought his lips down to his sac. "John, he'd be able to smell me on you..."

John trembled. "Ohn, yes... I should hope so... Not the same, though... might be a slight voyeur, won't- won't lie."

Jim chuckled. "Baby, name a kink you don't have."

"Waste. Waste is not a kink I have."

Jim made a face. "Maybe we should have this talk when I'm not trying to suck you off," he giggled, suckling his testicles into his mouth.

"Mmm, yes, let's... let's... Jesus, yes, Jim, oh... fuck!"

Jim moaned around his balls and pulled away, leaning up to take his dick into his mouth. He sucked him off, tonguing around the shaft as he moved.

John fought to keep his hips still, letting Jim lead as he keened above him. "Jim, baby... Uhn, christ, that mouth of yours..." He swallowed thickly, fighting to keep his eyes open, to watch.

Jim dragged a stripe up his cock. "Well, there is that whole silver tongue thing..." He whispered, tonguing the ridge of his head.

John shivered, starting to sweat. "Mmm, fuck, something better than silver. Absolutely wicked, you are, so bloody sexy, Jim..."

Jim grinned at him, eyes dark. He started to suck him in earnest, thumbing his sac and simultaneously teasing his hole as he worked.

John knew he wouldn't last long, not under that gaze, not in that mouth. He couldn't look away, even as his vision went white. "Ohn, Jim, I'm... Close..." God, he never wanted it to end. Granted, he never did with Jim.

Jim sucked harder, swallowed deeper and moaned around his length, precome on his tongue. He urged him along, eyes fiery with just an edge of plea in them.

John had never seen anything quite like the look in Jim's eyes. It sent chills down his spine, electricity arcing through his veins. He couldn't resist. "Fuck, Jim, y-you're... Uhn... fuck, fuckfuckfuck- JIM!" He threw his head back and curved his spine, pulsing against Jim's tongue as the world went blank for a moment.

Jim swallowed every drop he got, moaning at the taste of him. He pulled off when he was clean, grinning up at him.

John fell back against the bed, blushing furiously. "God, you're amazing."

Jim smiled and crawled over him. "So are you."

John looked up at Jim with a smile playing at the corner of his lips. "Mm. I like it when you're over me.”

Jim leaned down and kissed him. "I think I can do that more often, then," he beamed.

John licked the taste of him from his lips. "I want you to pin me down sometime. Hold my wrists above my head, be at your whim... If that's alright."

"Oh, darling that's perfect," he replied, kissing his cheek.

"Oh, good. I've always wanted that."

"Well you know how I can't say no to you."

John blushed. "I've noticed. Handing me the world, you are."

Jim grinned. "If that's what you want, then I will."

"Sod the world, all I want is you.”

Jim wrapped his arms around him. "You've got it," he grinned.

John held him in turn, giggling. "Our pizza will be here soon. Should I put on pants and get it?"

Jim kissed his nose. "I'll do it, love."

"Mm, thank you. You're an angel."

"Now, that's just silly," he chuckled.

"I don't think so. And you strapped a bomb to me."

Jim kissed him. "Well, the Devil was angel, I guess."

"Do you think of yourself as the devil, Mr. Moriarty?"

"Do you?"

John shook his head. "Mm, no, but the imagery is sexy.”

"I'm no angel, John," he whispered.

"I know. And neither am I. And we don't have to be."

"Good," he sighed, resting his head against his chest.

John smoothed his hair. "You know I love you. And I have, and will, kill for you. No matter what side of the line you stand on. I'm a part of your life now. And I will do anything for you."

Jim looked up at him. "So you'll still love me if I become a candy striper?"

John snorted. "Yes."

"Good, because I look damn good in that uniform."

"Oh, jesus, we should... I need to get my uniform back from Baker street. You'd love it."

Jim hummed, eyes sliding shut. "Good god, yes you do. And yes I fucking would. Christ."

"Mmm. Wonder if we could arrange that as part of our shopping. Picking up my things."

Jim giggled. "Breaking in again. Good."

"Again?"

"Oh, christ, I've been in your flat loads of times. Who do you think kept hiding the remote?"

John laughed loudly, imagining Moriarty sneaking and moving things just an inch to the left, or hiding them, or pouring out all the milk. "Seriously? Petty vandalism? God, you're cute."

"Remember that time Sherlock's beaker blew up in his face and stained him blue for three days? You're welcome," he chuckled, grinning at him.

John nudged him playfully. "Oh, my god. You? Are perfect."

Jim kissed his forehead. "I was working on cameras when Sherlock started my little game."

"Cameras?"

Jim nodded. "You two are so fun to watch. And I'm sure you were most entertaining after dark."

John blushed. "You weren't actually going to put them in my room, were you?"

Jim snorted. "Hot army doctor wanking to an I.T. boy in a V-neck? Darling, I was putting that shit online."

John covered his face. "Oh, god, you wouldn't! Sod, they'd never let me back into Bart's!"

Jim giggled. "Then, yes. Now, no. You're mine."

"Damn right I am. Only you get to see me wank to you."

Jim grinned. "And if I catch you wanking to someone else I'll just have to kill them."

"Oh, there's no one else that measures up to you."

Jim sighed almost wistfully. "I know. Isn't it brilliant?"

"Get me all in love with you, so everyone else is just a disappointment?"

Jim winked. "You got it."

"You clever, clever man. It worked."

"Muah ha ha," he teased, nuzzling their noses together.

"My wonderful little mastermind. God, I love you."

Jim giggled. "I love you too."

"... You know, putting them in my bedroom wouldn't have worked."

Jim cocked his head. "No?”

John grinned wickedly. "Oh, no, honey. I masturbate in the shower."

Jim shrugged. "Would've put one there too.”

John snorted. "Well that's refreshing. ...Would you have enjoyed it?"

Jim licked his lips. "What do you think?"

"Hm, before you saw me? Probably not."

Jim cocked his brow. "Before- Oh, sweetheart, you don't think the hospital was the first time I saw you, did you?"

John blushed. "I figured you saw me when you had the Tong operating in London. But that's not what I meant. I meant before you actually noticed me as more than a sidekick."

"Oh, yeah, I figured the cute little doctor tied to the chair was you. Definitely hot. Help for later, sarcasm doesn't translate to Chinese. At all," he giggled. "Even then someone put their hands on you and I shot them in the head."

John blushed. "Mm. My hero. Protecting me and taking care of failures at the same time."

Jim scoffed. "Morons. The tall one with the cheekbones, I said. Not the cute one with the gun."

"To be fair, I didn't have the gun. Last time I went on a date without, let me tell you."

Jim kissed his cheek. "Silly you."

"I even had one with me before you picked me up." He kissed Jim's cheek in return. "But I left it in my dresser.."

"Mm. Yet another reason I wonder why Sherlock didn't know I knew the damn thing was fake," he sighed, shaking his head. "But that's alright. On an average day I have about fifteen knives on my person at all times."

"Fifteen?" John licked his lips. "Impressive. Wondered where you got the one against my throat. That was also incredibly hot."

"Just inside my coat. Nowhere too creative. And I'm starting to wonder about your self-preservation skills."

John snorted. "I was distracted, with good reason."

"Mm, well I did smell incredible."

"God, you did. Looked incredible too."

Jim giggled. "It's the Westwood. Crowd favorite."

"I dunno, I'm partial to 'nothing at all'."

"Oh, well, that's reserved just for you," he grinned.

"I'm very, very glad," John said wryly. "If anyone else got to see it, I'd have to kill them."

"Ooh, I know you would," Jim grinned. "So feisty."

John growled softly. "Well. I know you'd do the same for me. And obviously, I find you very worth killing for."

"Quite obviously." He kissed the captain, smiling. "How did I get so lucky?"

"Mmm, kidnapped the right bloke. Not luck- skill."

"My luck that you wanted it, I suppose."

John chuckled. "Nope, also skill. It didn't talk you long to occupy my mind, and really, you know how I am about danger. Strapping a bomb to me was the perfect pickup line."

"'Hi, yes, I'm going to blow you to bits, also you're really cute. My place later?'"

John grinned. "But you didn't blow me to bits. That came after." He winked at Jim, pleased.

Jim giggled again, kissing his shoulder. "Yes, and I'd do it again, too!"

"I'm glad. I don't know if you've noticed, but I rather enjoy it."

"Masochist," he teased.

John snorted. "Sometimes."

Jim kissed his cheek. "And that's alright."

"I figured it would be."

Jim grunted when the doorbell rang. "Movement," he grumbled, pulling his pajamas back on and stepping down the stairs to retrieve the pizza.

John watched him go before crawling back up to the pillows. God, he was famished.

Jim came back up with the box and hopped onto the bed with him, grinning.

John smiled and sat up. "Mm, yes, good." He opened the cardboard and groaned, the steamy, pizza-scented air flooding the room. "I'm not entirely sure I haven't died. This? This is heaven. Pizza, you, everything."

"I don't think they'd let me in," he said pointedly, picking up his own slice.

John rolled his eyes. "Like they could keep you out. Eh. Don't believe in it anyway. Seen too much in this life to believe in that nonsense. And so have you. If it were, though- this would be it. An eternity of this. With you."

"If there is a god he forgot all about me," Jim said softly. "But this would be mine too."

John looked at the other man, head slightly cocked to the side. "I'm going to protect you, Jim. Better than any cruel, imaginary 'god'. I promise."

Jim smiled gently at him. "I know, baby."

John took a slice of pizza and began to eat, making quiet, pleased noises. He really would protect Jim, from anything, even if it meant laying down his own life. Jim was everything.

Jim smiled at the noises John made, leaning his head against his shoulder as he ate.

John rested his cheek against Jim's hair, knocking out a good three pieces before he had to stop. "Pizza was a good call, love."

Jim smiled, only going for two and resting against him. "Mm, I think so too."

John stretched and yawned, tired from their day, sore. He put his arm around Jim and kissed his neck. "I might call it an early night."

Jim kissed him back. "I'll join you." He stood, collecting the leftovers and carrying them downstairs. He shoved the box in the fridge and came back up, crawling under the covers with him.

John was feeling particularly submissive, so he pulled Jim's arm over his waist and curled against his body, fitting together like jigsaw pieces. "Work. Shopping. Breaking and Entering. Tomorrow's going to be fun."

Jim grinned and wrapped John in his arms nice and tight, smiling gently at him. "Absolutely."

John wriggled a little, honestly just wanting to feel Jim against him. "I love you."

Jim ran his fingers through his hair. "I love you too."

John hummed at his touch, slowly fading into an easy sleep. For the first time in days he dreamed, but they were good- they were filled with Jim, happy and smiling with him. Beautiful, those dreams. Peaceful.


	10. The Hand That Feeds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim has a good day planned for himself and John, but someone throws a wrench in their arrangements.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The shopping I promised, as well as the new kink we stumbled across. 
> 
> Mmmmmmm.
> 
> The shopping SEEMS brief, but that's because I sent Jim photos of everything I picked out for John. And yes, that included a folder with 35 pairs of knickers. Which I have on hand. ...Yep.
> 
> At some point I started naming everything after NIN songs and I'm not sorry at all.
> 
> ((I had to read the sex scene three times for editing purposes AND IT JUST KEPT GETTING BETTER. Fuck, if we tagged all the fetishes in this story, I bet we'd run out of room.))

Jim slept peacefully as well, but without dreams. He woke with a groan to the alarm, rolling away from John to slap the snooze button and nuzzle back into John's hair.

John whined quietly. "Time to get up, love?"

"No. Sod it. I like it here," he mumbled, voice muffled by John's hair.

John smiled. "Alright. You can stay then."

"Good," Jim grumped.

John chuckled and pressed closer to him, enjoying his warmth. He closed his eyes once more, dozing lightly.

Jim jolted from a doze with a groan, rolling over to look at the clock. "Fuck."

John yawned and stretched, his back popping. He groaned in pleasure. "Mmm... What's wrong? Did we miss it?"

"No, now we have to get up," he grumbled.

John rolled over and kissed Jim's chest. "I can live with that. Shower?"

Jim nodded, pouting. "If we must."

John climbed over Jim, their bare chests touching, and kissed the hollow of his throat. "Mm, don't be a grump. We're shopping today. After a bit of murder. And? We're breaking into 221B. Although it's not really breaking in, come to think of it. I have a bloody key. Come on, love."

"I'm not a morning person," he remarked, sitting up and following John into the bathroom.

John giggled. "I am. Army, and all that." He turned on the shower and stripped, stepping into the porcelain and holding his hand out to Jim.

Jim shed his pajamas and climbed in, nuzzling against his chest.

John held him close for a few moments before he began to wash his body. He liked helping Jim in the shower; it was fun, and cute, and kind of sexy.

"Mm, so handsy this early in the morning," Jim chuckled, arching into his touches.

"Any excuse to touch you while you're naked and wet," John replied with a coy grin.

Jim grinned back, pressing a kiss to his scar. "The feeling is mutual, darling."

John groaned quietly. "Mmm, you start with that, we'll never make our appointment on time. I'll want you to fuck me against the wall again."

Jim grumbled. "Alright, alright, I'll behave," he muttered.

John kissed his cheek. "I protest, but you know I love it when you're bad."

Jim nipped at his earlobe, grinning. "Yes, yes I do..."

John hummed softly, putting his hands on Jim's hips and pulling him closer.

"You tempt me so, John Watson," he whispered.

John shivered, rolling his hips ever so slightly. "D-do I, Mr. Moriarty?"

Jim pressed slow, soft kisses to his neck, tasting him on the water. "Yes, you do," he said, equally as soft.

John licked the water from his lips, leaning his head back to bare more skin for Jim to kiss. "Is that good or bad?"

Jim pretended to pout. "Well right now you said I couldn't play, so it was bad."

John bowed his head. "That was wrong of me. You know. You should punish me."

Jim shivered, a broad grin reaching his features. "Oh, yes, I should. I mean, that's what I'm supposed to do when you're naughty, isn't it?"

John nodded. "Yes, sir, it is.”

"What do you think I should do to you, John?" He whispered.

John bit his lip. "I don't know, sir. Remind me who's in charge?"

Jim slapped his rear, hard. "Hm..."

John gasped a little. He turned around and placed his hands on the wall like he had the day before, offering himself to be struck.

Jim stood behind him, lips beside his ear. "Remember the word?" He said softly, kissing his shoulder, one hand on his hip.

John nodded. "Yes, I remember. If it hurts, if I'm uncomfortable, I'll use it."

Jim kissed him again. "Okay, baby," he whispered. "Now," he swatted him again. "How many do you deserve?"

John grunted and rolled his shoulders. "Ten?"

"I think that's acceptable," Jim growled, bringing his hand down with a hard slap between his cheeks.

John relished the sting of his skin, soothed by the warm running down his his skin. He groaned, cock twitched at the blow.

Jim snarled. "What do you say?"

"T-thank you, sir?"

Jim kissed the back of his neck. "Good boy." He brought his hand down again, the slap echoing through the shower.

John jolted at the fresh sensation, rolling his hips a little. "Thank you."

Jim gave him another to his other cheek, watching the skin start to pink under his hands. "You have such a good little arse for me."

John let out a soft groan. "Thank you, Mr. Moriarty." Fuck, it felt good- Jim's hands were perfect, driving him wild with every strike.

Jim hummed. "Mm, look how pink you're getting." He slapped him again.

John moaned loudly, his voice echoing over the falling water. "Mmm, thank you, thank you..."

Jim gave two hard slaps to either cheek with a growl. He groaned and licked his lips.

John nearly fell, his knees going weak when he heard the sound rumble in Jim's throat. It was fucking incredible. "Oh, f-fuck, t-thank you..." Every nerve in his body was on a hair trigger, each new slap making it harder for him to keep his hands on the wall. He hadn't expected to be so into spanking, but _fuck_ , it turned him on.

"Ah, ah, ah, no swearing. That gets you another one," he warned, striking his skin with a glint in his eyes.

John gasped. "S-sorry, sir. Thank you." Oh, but he loved it.

Jim struck him three more times, each harder than the last, his palm stinging.

John thanked him each time, able to handle it, loving the way his body responded to each blow. He wondered if it would still be red when they went to the dressing rooms when they shopped- he wanted to see.

"Tell me how many more," Jim purred, a soothing palm running over his abused flesh.

"That's seven, plus one for cursing, and one for not saying thank you. Three more."

Jim kissed his ear. "Good boy. Count." He swat him again, watching his body react with a grin.

John gasped, licking his lips. "Eight, sir. Thank you."

Jim hit again, harder.

John arched his back at the contact, grunting. "Nine. Mmm, t-thank you."

Jim struck, harder still.

John felt the balls of his feet leave the floor momentarily, and he dug his nails into the grout as a sharp cry escaped his lips. "T-ten, mmm, thank you..."

Jim grinned. "You want to see how red you are, John? Want to see what happens when you're punished?"

John nodded. "Yes sir. Please."

Jim moved the shower curtain aside and turned John's shoulder, pointing him at the mirror. "Mmn, look at that."

John looked, breath catching in his throat. He was red and raw, skin flushed and swollen, and dear god it was hot. He let out a soft moan and ran a gentle hand over the sore area.

Jim bit at his jawline. "You think you learned your lesson?"

John nodded. "Yes, sir," he breathed. "I did."

Jim kissed him. "There's a good boy." He pushed their foreheads together, giggling. "Have I mentioned you're perfect?"

John grinned. "I think it's come up in conversation once or twice. Mmm. Might have to act up more often, gave me some ideas.”

Jim chuckled. "I love it when you get ideas."

"While we're out shopping later... Could we... buy me a collar?"

Jim grinned wickedly, eyes darkening significantly. "Yes," he growled, voice low.

John let out a soft moan and pressed his body closer to Jim's. "Oh, thank god. I was worried you'd say no."

Jim pressed him against the tile, pinning his wrists above his head. "Why in god's name would I ever say no to that?" He purred.

"I have no idea," John whispered, utterly transfixed by Jim's dark eyes. "But I love the thought of you gripping it by the ring and yanking me down to you..."

"Oh trust me," he breathed. "I've got ideas of my own..."

"Are you willing to share them, Mr. Moriarty?"

"In time," he cooed.

John nodded. "Alright."

Jim kissed his cheek. "Ready to get out, baby?"

John nodded and turned off the water, reaching for a towel and drying himself quickly. He took care with his raw skin, only wincing slightly.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" He asked immediately, worried as per usual.

John shook his head. "I would have used the word if you had."

"I know, I know," Jim reminded, sighing. "I'm sorry. I..."

John kissed his cheek. "I like it when you worry. Don't you apologize to me, Jim, not for caring."

"Just don't want to sound like I'm mothering you," he said, smiling shyly.

John snorted. "Oh, no, never mothering me. Although if you play your cards right, might be able to coax a more _paternal_ name from my lips." He blushed and nudged his hips against Jim's, using the bewildered look on his face as an excuse to duck out of the bathroom and begin dressing.

"I- What?" He stammered, frowning a moment. It dawned on his face visibly and he ran back out after him, grinning. "John Watson, you cheeky bastard!”

John giggled as he pulled up his boxers. "Yes, darling?"

Jim hooked fingers in his waistband and tugged him to him. "You can't say things like that and then run off."

"Oh? And why not?"

Jim nipped at his throat. "Because it drives me mad."

John groaned, baring more of his neck for the man. "What drives you mad? What I said, or running off afterwards?"

"What you said," he growled, kissing his cheek.

John shivered at the sound. "So you'd like that, then? If I were to call you..." He nuzzled against his ear, nipping gently at the lobe before moving to whisper against him. " _Daddy_?" He thought of the pool, the sing-song voice, how it boiled his blood.

Jim growled, low, primal, a grin spreading across his cheeks as he shoved him on the bed. "Work can wait," he whispered before John could say anything, eyes black. He started sucking mercilessly at his scar with a hand on his back stimulating it as well. "Say it again," he breathed.

John curved beneath him, gasping at the sensation of his scar. "Mmmm, daddy...."

Jim moaned low in his chest, biting at his skin and squeezing his hips. "John..."

John had first heard the thought the first time Jim had referred to him as a 'good boy' after taking care of his injuries. It lurked in the back of his mind, slowly becoming something he wanted to play with, something that turned him on an almost unhealthy amount. And christ, from the way he reacted, Jim seemed to enjoy it just as much. "What are you going to do with me, _daddy_?"

Jim stifled a shiver and pinned his wrists above his head. "Daddy's going to show his good boy what he gets for behaving," he growled, rocking his naked hips against his clothed ones.

John licked his lips, never breaking away from Jim's gaze. He was pinned, just like he'd asked for, and combined with this new and incredibly sexy thing they'd discovered... The doctor cursed his pants, wishing he'd waited just a little longer to put them on. He moaned and rocked right back, lifting his hips just a little, pressing closer to Jim's body. "Oh, daddy, thank you, thank you..."

Jim licked into his mouth, dancing with his tongue and sucking away his breath. "Now, does my good boy want Daddy's hands?" He dropped his voice an octave without hesitation. "Or does he want Daddy to tie him up?"

John whimpered slightly, that shift in pitch going straight to his cock. "I want you to tie me up, daddy, please."

"Be a good boy and don't move," Jim whispered, slowly letting him go. He went to the dresser and took out one of the scarves. He slid the silk over John's chest, being sure to drag the sheer cloth over his nipples and his scar. "To the headboard or do you want me to be able to change positions?"

John let out soft moans, shivering at the feel of the material. "I'd like you to be able to change positions, daddy," he said with a ragged sigh. God, he wanted this, so badly he could hardly see straight.

Jim was so hard it was making him dizzy. He tied his hands firmly, sliding fingers down his body. He ripped the pants from his hips, walking fingertips up his cock, salivating. "Mm, what do you want daddy to do first, darling?"

John licked his lips, trembling slightly. "D-daddy, may I have your tongue?"

Jim hummed, grinning at him. "Where?"

John blushed. "Mmmm..." He fluttered his lashes, a little shy. "Daddy, would you... would you lick my arse? Please?"

"Good boy, good boy..." He tossed John's legs over his shoulders and buried his tongue against his hole, stubble scraping the skin surrounding it.

John rolled his neck back, resting it against his outstretched arms as he gasped. Jim's tongue was hot and wet against his clean skin, the rough scratch of his carefully- kept facial hair adding all the right sensation. _Fuck_ , it felt good. "Oh, oh daddy, yes! T-thank you, thank you, it's... uhn..." He squeezed his shoulder with his thigh, pressing his hips down against Jim's eager mouth.

Jim moaned at the taste of him, eagerly working his tongue inside of him. His fingers caressed his thighs and his hips, touches butterfly soft as he worked. "Mm, you're welcome, baby..."

John let out a loud moan as his tongue fucked into him. "Feels- feels so good daddy, oh, please don't stop..." He tugged his wrists apart against the scarf, eager for the extra sensation. "Mmmm, oh, god..."

Jim slid into him deeper, breaking away to gasp. "Mmn, Johnny boy, do you want Daddy touching other places too?"

John nodded. "Y-yes, daddy. I do. Will you touch my cock, please? It's... it's so eager for you..."

Jim hummed. "Yes, I see, baby," he smiled. He returned his mouth, a hand gently wrapping around his eager arousal and stroking lightly.

John writhed against the bed, panting as he worked to buck into Jim's hand and press down on his tongue. "Don't make me come though, daddy, please. I... I want you fuck me too, daddy. I want you to come all over me."

Jim stilled his hand and removed his mouth. "What do we say?"

John whined low in his throat. "I said please, daddy, but I'll say it again. Please, please don't make me come. I want you to fuck me, please, daddy, I want you come all over me, please..."

Jim grinned. "One please per request, my sweet." He returned his stroking and lapping into him with soft moans.

"Mmm, a-alright. I'll remember. I promise." The noises Jim made were making it hard to focus, moaning as he flicked his tongue inside of John's eager, trembling body. "Ohn, daddy..." It was incredible, the stimulation threatening to drown him in pleasure- or was that just the high of this new thing, this strange secret kink neither had expected to find?

Jim pulled away regretfully with a grunt, kissing the inside of his legs. "Good boy." He grabbed the lubricant always at hand and slicked his fingers, pressing one inside of him with ease. "Open you up and fuck you senseless, eh?" He grinned.

"Oh, daddy, please, fuck me until I can't walk."

Jim grinned, adding another and working against his prostate. "I think you can do better, baby."

John whimpered and looked down at him through his blond lashes, breathing shallowly. "Oh, daddy, you fuck me so well. I need it, daddy, I need you. Please. Please fuck me, daddy. Please get me on my knees. Please let me have your cock- it's so big, it feels so good inside of me, I want it so badly. Please use me, daddy, please make me scream for you, please come all over my arse and only then, only after you've finished, please make me come too, with your name on my lips. I'll do anything, daddy, I swear, anything you ask..."

Jim grinned, kissing him deeply with a moan. "Of course, my good, sweet boy. Of course I will. Such a good boy only deserves as much," he whispered, kissing him deeply, moaning as he scissored into him. "So hot and tight for Daddy, baby..."

John moaned in return, every inch of his body tingling with desire. "I-I'll always be a good boy for you, daddy, god, I will. Uhn, daddy, I'm yours, all yours..."

Jim growled, purring low in his throat. "Goddamn right you are." He crooked his fingers, adding another when he was loose enough. "Beautiful, so beautiful."

John rocked his hips, fucking himself back on Jim's fingers eagerly. "T-thank you, daddy, thank you so much, I- mmf..." He was starting to sweat, a faint shine on his pink skin as he keened and panted.

"Tell me when you're ready for me," Jim breathed.

John lowered his voice, practically growling. "Oh, _daddy_ , I'm ready for you, please."

Jim grinned and slicked himself, rolling John on his side with his knees pressed together as he slowly started to press into him.

John gasped and pulled his knees as high to his chest as he could. "Oh... Ohn, daddy..." He couldn't rock back, not in that position, but he didn't care- he wanted to be used, to be filled, to be pounded into again and again. So he simply felt Jim enter, inch by inch, shaking slightly. The angle was more intense than he was used to, but fuck, it felt good.

"Good boy. Good, good boy, John," he groaned. He slowly started to move inside of him, finally gaining some relief from the sinful way John was behaving. He looked down at him, curled and gasping the way he was. So beautiful and so utterly sensual he almost lost it right there. He moved achingly slow, watching him, waiting.

John stretched his bound wrists above him, curving his torso against Jim's body. "Could... mm, could you move a little faster, daddy? Please?" It wasn't enough, he needed more, more of Jim,

"Oh course, darling," Jim moaned, rocking into him a little faster. "Now, Johnny, you don't get to come until daddy says so, alright?"

John nodded weakly, taking a ragged breath. "Yes, daddy. I-I'll wait, I promise." He closed his eyes, rolling his hips from side to side, tightening his muscles around Jim's length, experimenting, trying to please him as best he could.

Jim moaned again, a little louder. "Oh, good boy..." He licked his lips, riding him harder, watching his body gleefully.

"Oh, daddy," John gasped, Jim's hips slamming against his raw skin, adding an extra layer of pleasure to their sex. "Yes, yes!"

“Your arse still sting from daddy's spankings, Johnny boy?" He growled, twisting his hips as he moved.

John cried out, digging his nails into his palms. "Ah! Mmm, yes daddy, I deserved them, it hurts, but it's so good. Oh, so good..." He pressed against John's prostate and the doctor whimpered, eyes rolling back in his head.

Jim grinned and bucked harder, watching him rock with his movements. He leaned over him, catching his lips in a kiss, sucking his tongue into his mouth.

John kissed him hungrily, utterly out of his mind as he rode out each thrust, moaning into Jim's mouth as he took him again and again.

Jim pulled out abruptly, moving John again so his arse was in the air. He slid his member between his raw cheeks, waiting for John to start begging.

John whined, empty. "Daddy," he panted, need clear in his voice. "Please. Please, don't stop. Fuck me, daddy, please, I've been so good..."

Jim kissed the small of his back and pressed inside. "Mm, you're right, baby. You have been good." He started bucking hard, watching John pant and listening to him moan.

John cried out, a shuddering moan as Jim began to fuck into him with force. "Ah! Oh, d-daddy, thank you, thank you..." His head was turned to the side, watching Jim through his lashes as he panted and rocked back with him. In this position he could actually get leverage, meeting Jim's hips with equal force, eager for more of him.

Jim snarled, John's body hot and tight around him. Their bodies crashed together and Jim met his eyes. He kept their gazes locked as he licked his fingers and reached around to toy with John's nipples.

John nearly lost control, the expression on Jim's face one of pure hunger, of lust. He licked his lips, and as his fingers found purchase he let out a small gasp. "Ohn... Daddy, will- will you touch my scar for me, please?" Jim pinched and rubbed, and it felt good, but... but he'd put on a much better show if the sensitive skin of his wound were played with. And he wanted to put on a show, fuck, he did. It was good, so good, this new form of submission. _Imagine it with a collar. Imagine him yanking you around, down to your knees as you moan for him, 'daddy...'_

"Yes, baby," he breathed, kissing his shoulders and the nape of his neck while his fingers slid to the wound on his shoulder, teasing him, working the sensitive flesh between his fingers while he continued to fuck into him, harder now.

John was shaking then, the nerves in his scar practically burning at the touch. He curved his back down toward the bed, moaning loudly, rocking into Jim over and over. He couldn't help it, he had to close his eyes- they were rolling back in his skull, wave after wave of pleasure crashing over him as he gasped and panted strangled thanks and praises. "Ohhhhh, daddy, you- you fuck me so well, please, don't stop, daddy, don't stop..."

Jim smiled at his work, moving harder, faster. He dropped his free hand to stroke him eagerly, sweating, gasping and not regretting a moment of doing this. "Good boy, Johnny. Such a good boy."

John wasn't expecting the friction to feel so good- he nearly fell apart at the third stroke. "Oh, fuck, daddy! So good, so good, please- I'm already close, daddy, so close, don't let me come before you..."

Jim ground against John's prostate mercilessly. "Oh, I won't. You want to feel me first, Johnny boy? Want to feel me come inside you before you get to?"

John nodded weakly, barely able to think straight. "I want you to fill me, daddy, I want to feel you come. But. Will... will you... mmm... daddy, will you please come all over my arse?"

Jim nodded back. "Oh, yes, sweetheart, I will," he grinned, licking his teeth. He continued thrusting for a moment, gasps becoming more ragged before he pulled out, stroking himself wildly before coming hard over John's arse, grunting and gasping out his name.

John moaned loudly as Jim coated him, rocking his hips a little. "Pl-please, daddy, may I come?"

Jim nodded, rolling John onto his back and stroking him again, fingering him simultaneously. "Come for me, be a good boy and come for me, Johnny. Come..." He urged.

John was so close that it didn't take him long. With both of Jim's hands working to bring him off, he had no hope of resisting. "Oh, daddy, I'm going to, I'm going to come for you..." His words were cut off with a shout as his body contorted, back curving and head pressing into the pillow as he spilled over Jim's fist. "Fuck, oh, fuck, daddy!" he collapsed against the mattress, sweaty and filthy and spent, gasping for breath.

Jim grinned, lapping up John's come from his fist and leaned against him. "I don't know where the hell that came from, but good god, it was magnificent," he grinned.

John giggled. "God, it was. Going to use that more often, holy fuck... Maybe not even in the bedroom. Mmm." He held up his wrists and wiggled them. "Mind helping a bloke out?" Jim untied the scarf for him, and John wrapped his arms around his torso. A thought came into his head, and he giggled again, a breathless little chuckle that tickled Jim's skin. "Heh... mmm. Daddy loves _me_ the best." He licked his lips. "Are we too late for a bit of murder? I didn't ruin your plans, did I?"

Jim untied John at his request, kissing him as he did so. He grinned and giggled back at him, nuzzling their noses together. "Damn right, he does," he smirked. "Oh, no, absolutely not. Plenty of time."

"Oh, good. I'd have felt terrible if we missed the window." He bit gently at Jim's collar bone. "I think I need another shower. Or a towel. Either or."

Jim shook his head. "I wouldn't have," he breathed, kissing his forehead. "That was so very worth it." He sat up. "You want me to get you a towel or let you shower?"

"Towel. It's faster. I'm... a mess." He blushed. "Warm rag?"

Jim smiled gently and kissed his cheek, bringing him a damp rag. "I'll change in the bathroom, give you some privacy, baby," he smiled, taking a light gray suit from the closet and stepping back into the bathroom with a wink.

John watched him go, staring rather obviously as he disappeared into the bathroom. With a chuckle he collapsed against the bed, cleaning the drying flecks of Jim's climax off his skin before wiping off his own. When he was clean, he stood up and got dressed, opting for a simple black shirt and a pair of Jim's jeans. He hoped it was appropriate; he was always worried about being underdressed.

Jim combed his hair back once he was dressed, straightening his tie and not bothering to shave. John seemed to like it when he didn't. He came back out with a grin, kissing his cheek. "Beautiful as always, darling."

John smiled and combed his hair. He knew that tomorrow, Jim'd try to make something nicer out of it. "Is it time to go then?" He kissed Jim's neck and pulled him close. "I'm excited."

Jim kissed his cheek. "Yes it is. Come on." He offered his arm and waltzed him outside to the car.

John tried to wipe the smug grin off his face, but he couldn't. He slipped into the car beside Jim, keeping close, looking less like a decently trained killer and more like a man who'd just been thoroughly, and well, fucked.

Jim kissed his cheek. "Now, this isn't going to be so hands on," he explained.

"How do you mean?”

"I mean there won't be a bunch of blood or scaring the shit out of someone before shredding them to pieces."

"Oh. Shame. But, we are going shopping. Can't really go out as a gory mess."

Jim shook his head and smiled, wrinkling his nose. "No, we can't. Might attract too much attention."

John settled against him, head on his shoulder. "What'd this one do to make it onto your bad list?"

"Oh, nothing. Just getting rid of a client's competitor."

"Ah. Shouldn't be too much of a problem, then."

Jim shook his head, grinning. "Easy as pushing a button."

"Bomb?"

Jim put a finger to his lips and grinned. He was glad for the short drive and hopped out of the car, grabbing John's hand and stepping inside the building, going straight for the lift. He pulled a key out of his pocket and shoved it into the spot for it, twisting and pressing the button labeled "roof."

John held his hand and followed, the usual darkness to his eyes missing. He didn't need it, not today.

Jim leaned against the wall while the lift moved, eyes closed.

John rubbed his thumb over Jim's knuckle, giving him his moment of pseudo-privacy.

Jim peeked at him, smiling. "Hi, baby."

John smiled back. "You alright, love? Don't mind me tagging along, do you?"

"Mm, yes. Just a quiet day. Trying to work my way out of it. And of course I don't, I love it when you're here."

John leaned over and kissed his cheek. "Weren't so quiet earlier," he purred in his ear. "I'll let you have your peace."

Jim shivered a little, wrapping an arm around his waist. "Can I ask you for something?" He whispered.

"Anything. Always."

"Can I have your dog tags?"

John didn't hesitate. He took his free hand (his left, thank goodness) and expertly undid the snap that held his identification in place. He placed the chain around Jim's neck and refastened it, smiling softly. "You'll have to tuck it in if you want them hidden, though. I don't want to muss up your suit."

Jim grinned broadly. He kissed them and tucked them into his layers until they were pressing against his skin. He smiled at him. "I want to feel them," he assured. He took his hand when the elevator dinged and stepped out with him onto the roof.

John tried to wipe the blush off his face, but he couldn't. With any luck, no one will notice. Except Jim. Jim always noticed. And now... now he had his own piece of John to keep with him, much like the doctor's scars. He followed him onto the roof, the usual rush working its way through his veins.

Jim stepped to an edge, looking over the concrete wall with a low whistle. "It's weird, isn't it?"

"What is?"

"The way you really, really want to jump, even though you can't. But you still want to..." He chuckled. "Humans are weird." He looked at him, seeing his worry and shaking his head. "Oh god, John, I'm being annoying and philosophical. I'm not being suicidal." He leaned back and touched his cheek. "Sorry, baby."

John knew he was doing a poor job of masking the terror in his eyes as the gravity of Jim's words touched him. He knew he'd only been with him for a week (if he counted the basement, and of course he did), and so it was foolish for him to fear so strongly, but he could not shake the icy fingers of worry that gnawed at his heart- even when Jim touched his cheek. John didn't want to jump. Never, no matter how high up he was. He did not fear death; as a doctor, as a soldier, he lived side-by-side with it, and when his time came, he'd greet it like an old friend. The night John spoke to Jim, about how often he found himself wanting to die, how he threw himself recklessly after Sherlock in the hopes of something happening to him, it'd torn the Irishman up. It had hurt him. And despite Jim's reassurances, John couldn't shake it- the feeling that if Jim decided, on a whim, to end it all, John wouldn't be able to stop him. He swallowed and nodded once, not saying a word.

Jim kissed him, holding his face. "Shh, shh, hey," he leveled their gazes, smiling a little. "Two weeks ago I wouldn't give a damn if I leapt off this roof right now. If that's what I wanted to happen, then that's what would transpire. But I made you a promise; I said I'd never leave you and I'm not going to. I'm staying right here, baby. And I promise I'm not going to leave you. Ever."

John blinked, looking into Jim's eyes. "Okay. Thank you. I can't..." He couldn't get the words out. John closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. "I can't lose you. Please."

Jim kissed him again, grinning a little. "I love you. And you're not going to lose me, baby."

"I love you too. More than anything, Jim. I mean it.”

"Me too, sweetheart," he assured, pushing his hair back and kissing him. He took what appeared to be a detonator out of his jacket. "Wanna push the button?" He grinned.

John nodded eagerly. "I would absolutely love to."

Jim giggled and offered it to him. "Alright, now watch the horizon," he said, pointing out at the buildings in front of him.

John turned his gaze to where Jim gestured, watching intently as he pressed the button.

Jim cackled when the building trembled and blew, trembling and falling. "Now, before you panic," he explained. "The surrounding buildings were vacant, the only people working today were the executives that shit on everyone beneath them and everyone out of work will be picked up by my client," he winked. "All

"I wasn't going to panic," John said quietly, a small tone of realization in his voice. "I... It never crossed my mind. But that's brilliant, love, really." He grinned and kissed his cheek. "And it was beautiful. Where to next?"

"Well, all the shops just cleared," he winked. "But I think the shopping center down the street might be good."

John chuckled. "Alright. Are we walking, or taking your car?"

Jim took his hand. "We can walk," he smiled.

John stepped into the elevator with him, pressing the button for the ground floor with his free hand. He felt better the closer they got to the ground.

Jim wrapped his arms around his waist and kissing him. "Still worried about me?"

"Of course I am. I worry, it's just part of who I am. No one else worried, not when... So I had to. I'm a worrier."

"Well I'm right here," he whispered, kissing him. "Not hurt, not planning on getting hurt or hurting myself. No worries, baby."

"Easier said than done, but I'm better. I promise."

Jim kissed him again. "Good." He took his hand and led him out of the building while firetrucks and ambulances sped down the street in the opposite direction.

John walked beside him happily, wondering what shops, exactly, Jim intended them to visit. There were a few things he wanted to buy for... well, recreational purposes. And, of course, clothes that fit him. He knew that was on the bill.

Jim walked with him. "Clothes first?" He asked, squeezing his hand.

John nodded. "Clothes sounds perfect, actually," he said, giving him a squeeze back. "Yours are nice, but... They pinch," he finished with a chuckle.

Jim chuckled. "Absolutely, darling." He steered into a boutique, one that John obviously hadn't been in before, going by the look on his face. He waved away the attendant that started to bustle toward them and held John's shoulders. "I know it's a lot to take in, but trust me, okay?"

John swallowed and nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I trust you. But this is entirely your area. I'll follow your lead.”

Jim kissed his cheek. "Okay, jumpers," he grinned, ushering him toward the back where the racks were lined with plush sweaters of varying styles. "Just find what you like, okay?"

John smiled. "Alright. There a limit?"

Jim shook his head. "We're here for a wardrobe, honey."

John 's smile turned absolutely radiant. "Good." He began to search through the racks, forcing himself to check sizes without looking at prices. He found quite a few that he liked.

Jim leaned against the wall, smiling gently watching him shop, glad that he'd relaxed.

John came away with about three actual jumpers and a few cardigans, and one thing he was loathe to call 'clothing', a strange mesh jumper-like shirt that he really, really liked. "Alright. We're good on jumpers, I think," he said, a little pink.

Jim kissed his cheek and snapped his fingers, a young girl rushing over and taking the jumpers from John and ringing them up behind the counter. "Alright, denims next?" He smiled.

John nodded. "Yes, definitely needed." He followed Jim over to the section with his size and began to search.

Jim browsed himself, just looking, peering at John over the racks, smiling softly.

John was very picky, and only came away with five pairs. He was fond of them, though.

Jim kissed his forehead and snapped again, letting the girl rush away with the things John had picked out again. "Shirts?"

John followed him again, nodding.

Jim kissed his cheek. "Have I mentioned how fucking gorgeous those are going to make you look? I already have a hard time keeping my hands off you," he whispered, lips close to his ear.

John shivered, licking his lips. "Mmm. Is that right, daddy?" He started to search through their button-downs and t-shirts, for more relaxed wear.

Jim shivered a little as well and let John go, still smirking.

John came away with ten shirts of varying design and length. "There's, um. Something else I'd like to buy, while we're here, unless you want to go to a specialty store."

Jim smiled. "Pants?" He asked once the girl had taken the things away.

John nodded. "Oh yes. Though I do love wearing yours. I need pants..." He lowered his voice to a whisper, leaning close to speak in Jim's ear. "And knickers..."

Jim chewed his lip. "Well there's pants here," he said, nodding to the back room, turning his lips to John's ear in turn. "And knickers at our next stop."

John chuckled low in his throat. "I look forward to our next stop, then." He let Jim lead him to the underwear section.

Jim shivered again and followed him, biting his lip while John picked things out.

John picked out five designs, taking two to three of each in different colors. He included a few new red pairs with a grin.

Jim chuckled. "I love Mondays," he muttered, watching him.

"So do I," John replied. "Anything else, or are we free to check out and move on?"

Jim smiled. "I think we're alright. Do you have everything you need?"

John nodded. "Oh yes."

Jim nodded back and went up front with him, taking the pants from him. "Now don't freak out about the total, okay?" He said gently, kissing his cheek. The woman finished bagging everything with a smile. He glanced at John when she rattled off the total, which was well over three grand, handing her a card.

John looked anywhere but at Jim. _Thirty million quid on a fake painting, this is change, John, and think of how good you're going to look for him_. When she passed them the bags, he took them all. "Where to next, love?"

Jim took a few from John’s arms and left with him, smirking. "Little place around the corner you'd never know existed."

John grinned. "Lead on," he purred, following a pace behind him. He was positively giddy, though he cursed himself for not putting on one of his new outfits. You can wear them later.

Jim walked to a shop in the far corner of the shopping center and stepping inside with him. "Best quality place I know," he nodded, stepping inside with him. He let him stare around a moment, grinning. He brought his lips to his ear, well out of the cashier's earshot. "Now, tell Daddy what you want."

John let out a quiet groan. "I want a collar. One with an O-ring or a D-ring in the center. I want knickers, some practical, some just for tearing apart. I want a corset."

Jim sighed. "Trying to kill me, aren't you?" He whispered, kissing his temple. "Alright, knickers are down that aisle," he nodded to the one on their right, pressing him along by the small of his back.

John followed his direction, pupils blown wide as he looked over all the different styles.

Jim watched him choose hungrily, whining softly once or twice because fuck, he couldn't help it.

John blushed, knowing he had damn near forty pairs. "Alright, alright, I should stop. This is... these are more than enough.”

"I wouldn't object to a hundred, but whatever you say, love," he said, voice rough.

John stepped closer, lace and cotton and silk and vinyl in his arms. "And the bondage accoutrements, daddy?"

Jim shut his eyes briefly. "You...you- Oh, I'm gonna get you," he nodded, smirking wickedly. "Next aisle over, baby."

"Mmm, I'm counting on it," he purred as he disappeared. It didn't take him long to find what he wanted- as well as a few other toys.

Jim followed him eagerly, grinning the whole way. _Jesus Christ, this man is going to kill me_.

John turned around, a thick collar with multiple rings and a restraint kit added to the pile. "And... corsets?"

Jim swallowed. "Is that even a question?"

John chuckled. "Where are they, daddy? Never been here before."

Jim shook his head, breaking the daze. "Uh, right, far wall behind you," he stammered.

John winked at him and followed his gaze, settling easily- a waist cincher, black and practically entirely see-through. He hummed as his fingertips brushed the material. "Perfect. This is exactly what I wanted." He found his size (with the breadth of his muscular chest, he was a thirty-six) and added it to his overflowing arms. "I believe I am ready."

Jim giggled. "Oh, I'll bet you are," he winked, walking with him to the counter. The woman behind it gave John a giggle, winking appreciatively at them both while she rang everything up.

John held his head high, looking smug as Jim slipped an arm around him.

Jim slid his hand in John's back pocket, graciously taking the bags from her and stepping back outside, where the car was waiting for them. "221 B?" He asked, looking at him.

John nodded. "For my uniform. And then we get to get changed, and go dancing. You did, after all, say we could. And I feel a bit like showing off."

Jim grinned. "Absolutely." He got back into the car with him after loading the trunk, watching the city pass by while the car moved to John's former flat. He sighed when they got there, knowing Sherlock would be out reviewing the damage he'd caused earlier and stepped out of the car.

John followed, taking his key from his wallet. He unlocked the door and stepped in- Mrs. Hudson would be napping, thankfully. He walked up to his former flat, heart pounding in his chest. John refused to look around until they were in his room, where he got his box of army memories out from under his bed and his uniform bag from the closet. There was really nothing else he needed. Then, and only then, did he look around his room. Bed made with military precision, but slightly rumpled. Plain, hardly decorated. Boring. Because I wanted so badly to be boring. Now I want anything but.

Jim stepped aside while John went in, not wanting to invade on any privacy, letting him take his time. He waved for the car to circle the block, sighing up at the flat. He still wondered if Sherlock had realized that he'd needed John in more ways than one, if he'd thought about what they could have been if he hadn't intervened the way he did. He doubted that Sherlock could ever care for John as much as he did but...he still wondered. He paused. The car that had pulled up to the curb behind him had come too soon. Not his, not... Shit. He spun around, expecting the man that had jumped out at him, trying to grab him while Jim went for his knife. What he hadn't expected was the one who came out of the bakery and clamped the rag over his mouth before Jim could get John's name out completely. It took mere seconds for his world to go black.


	11. I'm Looking Forward To Joining You, Finally

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John can't just sit by while Jim is missing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One chapter left!

John placed his key on his nightstand. _He's been sleeping in my bed. Too little, too late. He'll find the key without issue._ He left with his bags and his box, freezing when he got to the curb. The car pulled up, and he made to get in, but Jim was nowhere to be found. Cursing, John reached for his phone- which he hadn't gotten back, not since Jim took him. "Fuck!" He moved to speak to the driver. "I need to know, did you see where Mr. Moriarty went?" The man shook his head. _Then what fucking good are you?_ John pinched the bridge of his nose, thinking. _There are cameras, and- Oh, FUCK! Of COURSE they'd be on 221B, with Sherlock being- god dammit, god DAMMIT!_ "Okay. Just. Drive back to his house, unload the trunk for him, I know I'm just an employee but right now, I need to be prepared in case he's been taken. So, if he's fine, and just went for a walk, I'll take your punishment. Just, just go, okay?" He stepped out and brushed his hands over his holster. _First, make sure he didn't just nip into the cafe_. He moved the few feet into Speedy's to ask around, but everyone refused to talk. I _f he'd just walked away, they wouldn't be so frightened. Fuck, did he... did someone actually kidnap him?!_

Jim woke with a dry mouth, groggy with a splitting headache. "Shit," he muttered. His hands were bound behind the cold metal chair he was in, down to his boxers and a T-shirt. He squinted around the too-bright room, trying to gain his bearings. "Jim." A voice said, one he recognized. He looked up at the looming figure with dark hair and bright eyes. He chuckled. "Hi, Sherly." He was struck for the first time after that. And the beating of the decade followed. He hardly flinched. _Oh, John, what did we get ourselves into?_

John was not one of the greatest men in the world, not like Jim or Sherlock or Mycroft, but he was damn sharp. He sat on the stoop, stock-still, until Mrs. Hudson came out to visit with the man who ran the restaurant next door. "John, dear! We've been worried sick about you!" He hugged her tightly, though he was all business at the moment. "Mrs. Hudson. Have you seen Sherlock today?" She shook her head. "No, after the explosion, terrible business, did you hear? He said he needed to speak with Mycroft about something. That was... oh, around three?" He sighed and nodded. "Alright." _Four hours ago, fuck_. _Could have done this sooner if I had my phone, or if I'd not bloody locked meself out._ "May I use your phone?" "Of course, of course, come in. I was just heading to Speedy's, but that can wait just a mo'." She led him into 221A and gestured to her coffee table. "There you are. I'll give you some privacy, then." As soon as she was gone he dialed Sherlock's number from memory.

Jim was still smirking at Sherlock, eyes black, nose cracked along the bridge. He spat a mouthful of blood onto the floor. His cheek was scraped and bruised, arms strained and aching. "Ooh, if you wanted it rough, all you had to do was ask," he grinned. Sherlock struck him again. "What did you do to John?!" He bellowed, eyes on fire. Jim cocked his head. "Everything you wish you could," he hissed. Sherlock raised his gloved fist again when his phone went off in his pocket. Jim grinned. "O, captain, my captain," he grinned. Sherlock stepped out of the room, leaving the nameless goon of the Ice Man's to have at him instead. He kept his face blank with this one, proving his brawn meant nothing. He kept one word in his mind, Sherlock speaking incoherently outside the door. _John._

"Sherlock," John said, voice cool. "I know your brother has the cameras on your flat. Where. Is. Jim?" "It's alright, John, you're safe now." "Sherlock, I have BEEN safe! Now what's happened to him?" The voice on the other end sighed. "Stockholm syndrome. I'll be leaving shortly, I need to know what he's done to you, where you're hurt, how-" "Sherlock, shut the fuck up." His voice carried a dangerous edge. "Where is he?" "Where he can't hurt anyone." "THAT ISN'T AN ANSWER, SHERLOCK!" There was a pause on the other end, a shuddering intake of breath. Sherlock knew that tone well, knew the promise woven into his shout. "Mycroft has him. I'm here as well. Come here, then, and we'll talk. You'll need to be debriefed, stabilized, whatever he did to you when he took you-" "I'll see you soon." John hung up and left a note for Mrs. Hudson before running to the street to hail a cab. It had been hours, that was long enough for something terrible to happen. He didn't want to waste any more time. He gave the cabbie the address and sat back, but not before shooting a murderous glare at the CCTV camera closest to him.

Jim smiled in an almost reptilian manner when Sherlock came back in. He hissed when Sherlock grabbed a handful of his hair. "What did you do to him? WHAT DID YOU DO TO MAKE HIM LOVE YOU?!" He snarled. Jim grinned and giggled. "Sherly, all I had to do was worship him like he deserved." No, no, you poisoned his mind, you drugged him, you beat him into submission, into loving you. You did something to him. My John-" "Ah, ah, ah," he grinned, clicking his tongue. "You and I both know he's _my_ John now." He was ready for the beatings that followed, for the starvation, sleep deprivation and dehydration that came in the following days. He guessed it had been around three when something finally happened that didn't involve bruising bruises.

John couldn't get in the first few days, and no one left the building. He kept coming back. He did not eat, he did not sleep, he simply drank coffee at the all-night cafe round the corner and waited. And waited. He tried to come up with a plan, but everything dead-ended in his mind. Every second he tried, Jim was in danger of being hurt worse. But god dammit, he couldn't go in, half cocked and- _Who the fuck says I can't?_ On the third day, tired of fighting for entrance, he simply pulled out his gun quickly and quietly and shot the guards in the head. "Why yes," he growled. "I'd love to speak to your boss." He kicked in the door with a snarl and held his weapon at the ready. _Eleven shots, one extra clip on me. Five second clip reload time if I need it._ He did not have a silencer, and it didn't matter. Alarms sounded as he took aim, shooting the goon that came through the door on his left. "Holmes," he hissed at the woman cowering behind the desk dominating the center of the room. "Get me Holmes. Either of the bastards. _Now_."

Jim focused on breathing, lips dried, cracked with his whole body shaking now and again with tremors. He needed water, and sleep...and John. The gunshots somewhere distant made him sit up straighter, eyes opening. He smiled at the glass, right where one of them had to be standing. Sherlock wouldn't go greet John, not while he had a gun in his hand. Mycroft would because John wouldn't shoot him. He'd talk him down, calm him just enough to get him to speak to Sherlock, and then god only knew what would happen then. _Come take me home, baby. Let's go home, I just want to go home._

John shot down two more guards that came at him. He stood still, frozen. _Eight_. Finally Mycroft exited the lift, tutting at the bodies on the floor. "John. We expected you sooner. " "You know damn and bloody well you kept me back purposefully. I'm a patient man, Mycroft, but I'm here for what's mine." "Jim Moriarty?" "Yes." Mycroft laughed. "He kidnapped you, John. He probably hurt you, far deeper than you know. Why are you here? We freed you." "Mycroft. Give him to me." "No. He is a highly-wanted criminal, charged with many murders, murder you assisted in... Oh _yes_. Don't look so surprised. His cleaners are good, very good, but I... have a Holmes on my side. Speaking of whom, he wants to talk to you. Why don't you put the gun away, John, and come speak to Sherlock?" "If I speak with him, Mycroft, I'd rather like to have my gun on me." The older man shook his head. "You know I can't let you do that, John." "If he's been harmed, Mycroft. I want to make you both pay." "Oh, he's _been_ harmed." John cocked his gun. "If you kill me, John, he will not leave here alive. He is not unattended." It took all his will, but John forced the gun back into his holster and thumbed on the safety. "Take me to him. Immediately." He followed Mycroft into the lift and down to a waiting room, with two doors at the opposite end. _One of them has Jim_. Mycroft rapped on one and Sherlock exited, his impassive expression fading into relief when he saw John. "Oh, thank god, John, we need to-" He held up a hand. "Since you are both present, I'm only going to say this once. I'm working with him willingly, not by force. You two bastards had your chance to rescue me in the beginning, and you didn't. It's good, though. I'm glad you didn't. Because Jim is... Jim is everything to me. So give him back to me, so that I don't have to kill you." Mycroft opened his mouth to speak, but Sherlock interrupted. "Why. Why do you love him?" John turned his hard gaze to the man he used to love, the man he was so willing to die for. "He sees me, Sherlock, like you never could. I loved you, christ, I was willing to lay down my life for you. And that didn't matter. You saw me as worthless, as nothing, until I was gone. But Jim saw. And he nurtured. And he lets me be myself. The weird, the dark, the violent, the silly, everything. Jim lets me _kill_. He's been through so much, christ, neither of you could ever understand. Now give him to me. Let us go home. We had plans. Fuck, we had _dates_ planned. And I swear, I will make you pay. For every blow. For every threat. I. Will. Make. You. Pay." "John... I didn't... I didn't know. How to act, how to... I love you, John." "Too little, too late, Sherlock. You had your chances. You didn't come save me, you didn't bother to find me, you didn't bother to care until it was convenient. Now, if you please. The man I love. Now."

Jim didn't like the silence that fell after the last two gunshots. He tugged at his handcuffs a little, barely glancing at the guard that struck him when he did. He grunted, waiting. And waiting was the worst part. It took ten minutes for the door to open, and when he heard the footsteps approaching him he knew it was going to be okay. He smiled, eyes falling shut with a thin sheen of sweat on his face. "John."

John sank to his knees, cupping Jim's face gently while Mycroft undid the cuffs. "Hey, daddy," he said softly, trying not to wince at the damage. "Sorry I'm late."

Jim smiled weakly, leaning his forehead against his with a wet laugh. "I think I can forgive you."

John nuzzled against him. "Should I kill them?"

Jim cupped his face, wrists raw, and shook his head. "No, baby. No, let's just go home." There was plea in his voice, an edge of desperation. "Let's go home, John."

John nodded. "I can do that, love." He shot Mycroft a blood-chilling stare as he placed Jim's arms around his neck. "I've got you, alright? Just hold tight. I'll get you home, we'll get you fixed up. Johnny's going to take care of you. I am you doctor after all." He looked at Mycroft as he lifted Jim in his arms, holding him tight against his chest. "His personal effects. Now." Mycroft passed John a bag, but his hands were full. He nodded toward Jim, and the elder holmes placed the bag on his stomach. Thankfully, it was light. Without a second glance he strode out of the room, carrying Jim as he moved toward the lift. "I love you," Sherlock said quietly as they passed. "You're _dead_ to me," John growled in reply. When they were in the elevator proper, he blinked away a few tears. "Baby, I'm going to take care of you. Just like you did for me, alright? We'll get you home, get you a bath, clean up any cuts you might have, and get you resting in a proper bed. I haven't been home yet, I need throw out that pizza, but you can order anything you want. I'd offer to cook, but I don't... I don't want to be away from you. Okay? And when you're better, we'll do all the things we said we would. You're going to fuss over my hair, we're going to go dancing, we'll play with our new toys, just... just gotta get you better. Do me a favor? Reach into that bag, phone your driver? We're gonna need a car, and I don't... I still don't know how to find your place..." He knew he was rambling, his composure slipping now that he had him in his arms. "I'm so sorry, should have come inside with me, I forgot all about the cameras... Fuck, it's all my fault, you should fire me, you should leave me, I had one fucking job and I fucked it up so bad... But you're alive. You're alive, we're going home, and I swear to god I'm never leaving your side again. Never. Unless you ask me to. I just... I can't... I can't let you get hurt. It's... God, I was so scared, Jim, so fucking scared. I tried, I tried so hard, and then I just... I was tired of waiting, tired of being diplomatic. I love you so fucking much." He quieted as Jim phoned for his car, throat raw. "Make them bring you some water," he said quietly, and Jim nodded. "Good. Good. Alright, just. Just hang on." By the time they made it to the curb, stepping over John's impressive bodycount of five guards, the car was there. John set Jim in the seat and climbed over, pulling him over so that his head rested in his lap. The doctor stroked his hair gently, holding it back until they were at home, away from the prying eyes of the Holmes brothers. "I love you," he opted to whisper. "I love you, I love you, I love you."

Jim clung to John when he lifted him into his arms, resting his face in his neck with a soft sigh. He grunted a little when the bag was placed on him, keeping his eyes shut so he didn't have to look at Mycroft. They flew open at Sherlock's voice, eyes daggers for the detective, chest heavy. He squeezed John a little tighter, clinging to him. _He's mine, mine, all mine. Not yours. Go away, leave him alone. You can't have him._ He nodded along with John's requests. "Why didn't you go home?" He rasped. "And I'm sorry I missed our date." His voice broke a little. He swallowed and dug through the bag to retrieve his phone, turning it on. He looked up at John, shaking his head. "John, baby, it's okay. I'm not upset, I'm not firing you and, Christ, I'm not gonna leave you. I love you. I know you were scared, and I'm alright. I'm okay. Had worse than this." He kissed his cheek and started dialing. "Yeah, it's on now. Lock the GPS," he nodded. "You're fine, you're fine. Water." He hung up, looking at the bodies that littered the ground. "You are pissed," he chuckled. He was grateful for the car, grateful that John was so close and he didn't have to sit with his legs curled anymore. He sighed at the doctor's touch. "I love you too, John."

"Shh, don't apologize. It's alright. We can set up another when you're better." John sat back, falling quiet, simply enjoying having Jim near him again. He passed him a bottle of cold water and encouraged him to drink, to ease his raw throat. When they made it to his house, he lifted him one more and carried him inside. The bags from their shopping spree rested just inside the door, and John made a mental note to put everything away when Jim was sleeping. He carried the man straight to their bathroom and held him as he drew a warm bath.

Jim drank eagerly, humming at the coolness seeping down his throat. He sighed. "Thank you." He curled around him, face buried in his neck, clinging to his body. He kept his eyes closed, just breathing him in, barely hearing the bath running behind them. He smiled softly. "I missed you."

"I missed you too. God, I... I was so scared. I came down, and you weren't there, and you weren't in the car..."

"Came out of nowhere," he rasped. "Chloroform. I'm sorry I scared you."

"Don't apologize for those bastards, it wasn't your fault, not at all, baby." John turned off the water with a sigh. "Is it alright if I take your clothes off?"

"If you thought you were pissed before..."

John swallowed. "What did they do, Jim?" His voice was low, dangerous, thick with the promise of revenge.

"Nothing too awful. Sherly was too angry to be that malicious," he croaked. "Nothing I haven't had before, baby."

"I'm expecting bruises, possible lacerations. Did he..." John closed his eyes, lips twisting in a snarl as he forced the words out. "You've had terrible things, Jim, there's not much someone could do to you that you hadn't had to deal with before. Was it just physical? Did they just beat you? They didn't... They didn't touch you, did they? Because I swear to god I will tear their heads off."

Jim shook his head. "Nah. Squeezed me once when I told him I'd fucked your brains out while you were chained up but other than that it was just usual shit. Hitting, kicking, spitting, burned me with his cigarettes. Nothing too awful, baby."

John stilled. His breathing, his heart, everything stilled. "That son of a bitch."

Jim kissed his neck. "It's alright. I'm fine. Well...I will be."

John took a deep breath and began to work him out of his shirt and boxers, lowering him into the warm bath when he was bare. "Is it alright if I join you?"

Jim hissed a little at the warm water seeping into his wounds but smiled up at him. "Of course it is."

John stripped out of his filthy clothes and climbed in behind him, wrapping his arms around his chest. "I'm so glad you're back. I'm sorry it took so long."

Jim leaned his head against him, shaking his head. "It's okay. I'm glad you did come, though. You had me worried for a minute."

"I couldn't... I was too afraid that if I just stormed in there, they’d... They’d kill you... I called Sherlock, he said you were with Mycroft, and I... I said I would come talk to them. And they wouldn't let me in. For days, and I... I finally snapped."

"Oh, the Ice Man," he chuckled, thinking of the criss-crossed welts on his chest. "Umbrellas sting." He kissed his chest jaw. "Thank you for saving me."

"I'm sorry it took so long. Fuck, I should have shot them, should have killed them both when I had the chance."

Jim shook his head. "No, no, that wouldn't have solved anything. That wouldn't have kept you protected. I'm glad it worked out the way it did, John. I am." Sherlock's words to John rang in his ears, suffocating his heart a moment. "Most of it."

John leaned forward and kissed his cheek. "I'm just glad you're back. God, I am. Would have blown up half of London to get you, if I knew were you kept the explosives. ...And if I could home."

"Why couldn't you?" He asked, looking up at him through his swollen eyes.

"Sent the driver back with our things when you weren't in the car. I don't know if you've noticed, but I tend to focus on you when we leave the house, not where we are. I tried, I just... I found I never paid attention. Just counted on you to get us home."

"I'll get you an address. And your phone. Don't know why I hadn't yet. It's in the nightstand on your side of the bed."

John nodded. "Alright, love. Thank you."

Jim paused a moment, so weary, trying to think. "You...Did you mean what you said to him? To Sherlock?"

"That he's dead to me? God damn right, I meant it."

"So you don't....?"

John turned Jim's head to look him dead in the eyes. "James Moriarty. I love you. I killed five men for you today. I would have killed two more. I carried you out of there myself. I love you. And any time you start to doubt that-" He took Jim's hand and pressed it against the name on his chest. "Just remember."

Jim nodded, tears in his eyes. "I love you too. I love you so much. And I get so scared you might leave. Or that you would think they were right and I just manipulated you- Which I didn't! I didn't trick you into loving me..." He'd been in his head too long. He laid his head against his chest, tracing the letters, sniffling.

"You didn't trick me. I was scared, at first, you know that. But you were... God, you were so good to me, better than anyone had ever been, and you took care of me while I healed, and I just... I saw you. You let me see you, see who you really are, and I couldn't help it. You're brilliant, and beautiful, and oh so sexy, and funny, and fun to be around. And you don't... you don't treat me like an imbecile, like I don't matter. You treat me like a partner, not a pet. ...Unless I ask for it," he said with a soft chuckle. "I don't think for a second you manipulated me, because I know you didn't intend for this to happen. You took me for revenge, you took me to break Sherlock, you took me because I impressed you in a way he never did. You didn't expect to love me. I can still see it, the surprise on your face..." He smiled gently. "This? Is all me. Not you. They just don't want to believe I could be happy here. But I am. So very happy."

"I want you to be happy," Jim rasped, smiling at him, eyes wet. "I want you to be happy and if you're ever not happy tell me and I'll fix it until you are again." He squeezed him tight. "It surprises me every day that you love me. It surprises me that it isn't a dream I need to wake up from. It surprises me that you're this perfect and real. You surprise me, John, and I don't think you'll ever stop."

John smiled and kissed his cheek. "I don't think I'll ever be unhappy with you, Jim." He reached over the edge of the tub and rummaged in Jim's bag. He pulled out his dog tags and replaced them on Jim's neck. "There we go. That's better. Now we match again."

Jim sighed when the metal touched his skin, eyes falling shut as if that alone was the only thing to keep him sane. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, love." He leaned back and pulled Jim with him, keeping him resting against his chest. "Any idea of what you'd like to eat?"

"Something light. Like macaroni or something. Haven't been this long without food in a while."

John nodded. "Rice okay? I can get you set up on the couch while I cook it. Five minutes, no longer. I'm good at rice."

Jim nodded back, incredibly tired, John's presence and the pain keeping him awake.

"Food or nap first, love?" The doctor could see the fatigue in Jim's face, and it hurt. "Whichever you choose, I'll get you painkillers before hand."

“Whatever you think is best, doctor,"Jim replied.

John shook his head. "I think you should eat before you sleep, so that when you wake up you've got a little more strength. But if you'd rather sleep, I have no problem carrying you to bed."

"Then I'll eat," he nodded, body pulsing with pain.

"Alright. Let me know when you're ready to get out, okay? I've got some percocets downstairs. I'm glad I thought to get my kit, now."

"Now. We can get out now," he mumbled.

John nodded, and let the water out. "Let me dry off, and I'll help you out." He rose and wrapped a towel over his waist, taking a second in his hands. "Alright, daddy, hold on to my arm." He Helped Jim to his feet and wrapped him up, scooping him into his arms and carrying him downstairs to the couch. "Wait right here a moment, love." He went to the bags near the door. Buried beneath the fruits of their shopping, he found his black satchel. John rummaged through it and pulled out an open bottle of percocets. "For my shoulder," he explained, taking two and handing them to Jim with his water. "I'll be right in the kitchen, making you some food. Call if you need me."

Jim did as instructed, standing on trembling legs and falling into John's arms. He sighed when they reached the couch, lying back with a soft coo. He took the pills and the water. "Thank you," he whispered, lying back on the cushions with his eyes shut.


	12. All The Love In The World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We may or may not revisit this at some point; for now, here's the cuddly conclusion.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who read, commented, kudos'd, and hung around for updates!
> 
> -John and Jim

John kissed his head and moved to cook, adding a pinch of salt to the rice while he waited for it to boil. As soon as it began he turned the heat to low and covered the pot, setting the timer for five minutes. When it finally dinged, he scooped it into a bowl and carried it in, kneeling down beside the couch. "Hey, love."

Jim forced his eyes back open when he spoke, peering at him with a gentle smile. "Mm, hi, baby."

John smoothed his hair from his face and offered the bowl. "Something to settle your stomach."

Jim took it from him graciously, hands shaking just a little. "Thank you so much," he rasped, taking it from him while he started to eat.

John gently rubbed his leg, eager for contact. He watched him eat, slowly, passing him the water when he needed it. I'll take care of you. I promise.

"Look at you fussing over me," Jim said between bites, stomach lurching with hunger.

"Well, you did the same for me," he said with a small smile, pressing a soft kiss to Jim's ankle. "I love you, and I want to make sure you're well-cared for."

Jim finished the bowl and set it shakily on the table when he was through. "Thank you," he smiled, squeezing his hand.

"You're welcome," he replied. "Want me to take you to bed?"

Jim nodded. "Need some pajamas," he muttered. "It's too cold."

John smiled and picked Jim up in his arms. With him held to his chest he carried him upstairs, setting him on the bed. "Which drawer?"

Jim lied back with a soft, contented sigh. Bed. Their bed. "Middle one, darling."

John kissed his head. "Thank you." He went and pulled out a matching pair, long-sleeved shirt and trousers, and a clean pair of pants. He brought them back to Jim. "Need help?"

Jim nodded weakly. "If you would," he muttered, hissing as he sat up.

John helped him into his pants and trousers, and slipped the shirt over his shoulders so he could button it up. When he was dressed he tucked him in and kissed his head. "I'm going to bring the bags up and get my clothes put away before I join you, alright? I'll be in the room. And I'll also need to know which side of the closet I can claim."

Jim touched his arm. He didn't want him to go. He nodded all the same. "Just shove everything to the left and make yourself at home," he croaked, forcing his eyes to stay open.

John nodded. "Thank you. I won't be long, I promise." He kissed his hand and walked quickly from the room, taking the stairs in sets of two. By some miracle he was able to get all the bags, his suit, AND his box up in one trip. He deposited them all on the floor and closed the door. "See? No time at all." He gave Jim a gentle kiss and slipped his box under the bed. "I'm also going to need a drawer or too. For, um. Pants, and. Things."

Jim forced himself to stay awake just a little while longer waiting for John. He smiled at him when he came back in, bruised, battered and so tired. He kissed him back with a chuckle. "Half that dresser's already been cleared for you. And if you want to keep the things in the same drawer with mine you're more than welcome to," he assured.

John grinned. "Thank you, love. Sleep for me, yeah? Ten, fifteen minutes, and I'll be joining you." He unloaded his bag from the adult shop first, adding his knickers, his collar, the restraints, and his corset in with Jim's things. He put his pants in one empty drawer, and his jeans in another, and hung up all his shirts on the right side of the closet, as well as suit. As soon as he was done he crawled naked into bed with Jim, pulling him close.

Jim shook his head. "Mmno, I don't want to sleep unless you're here," he whispered, waiting. He sighed when John climbed in with him, rolling toward him and wrapping his arms around him with a soft coo. "All I wanted..." He murmured.

John smiled. "I've got you, Jim. Get some rest." He kissed Jim's head and held him tightly, watching him fall asleep. When he was sure he was unconscious, John finally let himself go. He let the tears come, burying his face in Jim's hair. _I'm so glad you're safe, so glad you're home, I'd never just leave you like that, I'll never leave you, I won't let anyone hurt you again I swear I'm so sorry I failed you..._

Jim slept instantly, John's face the last thing he saw before he did. He clung to him with nearly all he had, sighing gently.

John finally fell asleep, wrapped around Jim protectively, eyes red and swollen from his tears.

Jim gasped awake a few hours later, practically sobbing for breath and scrambling to get ahold of something warm. He buried his face in John's neck when he found it, whimpering incoherently and kissing what he could reach.

John opened his eyes, rubbing Jim's back gently. "Hey, hey, it's alright, you're safe. I've got you, I've got you."

Jim moaned out his understanding and kept his grip on him, shuddering. "Don't let go," he managed, shaking his head. "Please, please don't let go."

John held him tighter. "I won't, daddy. I promise."

Jim smiled weakly, gasping still. "You did that on purpose," he breathed, leaning back to look at him. He frowned, touching his cheek. "Johnny..." He breathed, thumbing under his puffy eyes.

John smiled. "I did indeed." He swallowed. "Yes, love?"

"I don't like it when you cry," he whispered.

"I'm sorry. It's been a stressful few days. It just... I had to let it out."

"You know you can cry in front of me," Jim assured, kissing his cheek, his own eyes shining. "It's better if someone holds you while you're crying. So I've heard."

John chuckled quietly. "You were holding me."

Jim felt a tear slide down his cheek. "You know what I mean."

John nodded. "Alright. No more playing the tough guy. I promise." He wiped away the tear.

“And stop beating yourself up about what happened," Jim tried to demand.

John nodded. "Yes, sir," he said, placing a kiss to his nose. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I got hit by a bus with sharp cheekbones," he chuckled, shutting his eyes and leaning against him with tears still streaking down his cheeks.

John held him close. "I can still kill him, you know. I would if you asked me to." He rubbed his back. "Let out whatever you need to."

"No, not worth it. Best thing to do to show-offs is ignore them," he mumbled. "I was just so scared that he'd get too angry and put a bullet in my head," he whispered, shaking softly. "I was so scared that I'd be forced to break my promise, John. I-I can bounce back from a lot, but a bullet?" Jim started to sob softly, clinging to his skin. "I can't leave you. I can never leave you, John, I promised...I promised..."

John clutched him close, his own tears coming back. "I'd come with you," he said quietly through his sobs. "I wouldn't let you go alone. I'd take them out, and I'd come after you."

"God, I was so scared, but then you were there. You were there and you saved me, darling. God, I'd never had someone save me, never had someone care enough and there you fucking were." He turned his head and kissed John’s cheek.

John nuzzled against him. "Of course I came for you, Jim. I wasn't going to leave you. I'm never going to leave you."

"I know you wouldn't. I love you so much My John. My doctor. Mine."

"All yours, daddy. Your doctor, your captain, your John. Forever."

"Lets go back to sleep," he whispered, kissing tears off his cheeks.

John nodded. "Sleep sounds wonderful." He closed his eyes and clutched Jim tightly, hoping he'd feel well enough to eat again in the morning.

Jim nuzzled into John's chest, sleeping again, this time peacefully, John's heartbeat in his ear.

John slept through the night, utterly drained, dreaming of a smiling Jim. He'd coax that smile back somehow.

Jim woke the next morning with a soft groan, body on fire.

"Hey there, darling. Ready for more painkillers?"

"Please," he replied weakly, voice worse than the day before, face hot. "Mm, John, I think I'm sick."

John frowned. "Shit, you feel like it." He untangled himself from him reluctantly. "I'm going to get my med kit, alright? And a glass of orange juice. I'll be back, okay?"

Jim grunted when he peeled away from him, the air icy on his skin. "Okay," he whispered, heavy.

John poured the glass of juice first. He paused only to grab his satchel from beside the couch, returning as quickly as he could. John took two of the percocets out of the bottle and pressed them into Jim's palm, offering him the glass. "First things first, take these."

"Okay," he breathed, taking the painkillers and downing them quickly. "Thank you," he whispered, the sweetness of the orange juice making him grimace a little.

"If you're sick, you need the vitamins," John said in a very doctorly tone. "Alright, now, I need to take your temperature." He pulled out a thermometer. "Tongue up, daddy."

"Yes sir," Jim replied with a smile, taking another sip. He set the glass down and lifted his tongue as instructed.

John slipped the thermometer under his tongue and watched him close his mouth, waiting for the beep. He went to the bathroom and returned with a cool, damp cloth, resting it on Jim's forehead. The thermometer beeped. "Oh, jesus, one hundred and two."

Jim sighed at the cloth soothing his forehead. He coughed when the thermometer was gone. "Damn that cold room and that fucking chair," he muttered. He looked up at him. "This is very strange."

"Strange?"

"Someone taking care of me," he croaked. "And me letting you. I'd normally be so annoyingly independent."

"You need someone to take care of you. And you will have plenty of time to be annoyingly independent when you're healthy. Christ, should have fucking killed him, had him turned into a book. It's just a touch of fever, it'll pass, I know, I shouldn't get so upset..."

Jim sat up a little, wincing. "Come here, baby."

John stood and sat on the edge of the bed, taking Jim in his arms. "Yes?"

"It's okay to be upset. It's okay, emotions are alright. But please, baby, ignore the bastard. Pretty book as he'd be..." He smirked, turning away into a coughing fit. "Sorry."

John stroked his cheek. "They hurt you. They made you sick. It's... I won't be able to ignore that until I make you better."

Jim nuzzled into his touch. "Then let's get me better."

John smiled. "I will. I promise. Bed rest, hydration, about all I can do, sadly."

Jim shook his head. "No it's not."

"It's not?"

"No. You can sit with me and talk to me about Star Trek or other silly nonsense that makes me love you so much."

John returned the expression, his eyes warm. "Alright. Let's... I know. T'hy'la. It's a term for a bond. Friend, it can be used for. Brother as well. And lover, mate. It's been speculated for decades that when Spock uses it to refer to Kirk, well... he meant all three. I used to..." he chuckled, embarrassed. "Always promised myself if I got married, I'd sneak it into my vows somehow."

Jim giggled. "I like it," he nodded. "It's pretty. And if it's not in our vows I'm going to be very disappointed." He clacked his jaw shut, looking at him with wide eyes. "Or, um..."

John grinned widely. "Planning on putting a ring on my finger, daddy?"

"M-maybe," he stammered.

"Well if that maybe turns into something definite, you tell me," he said, pressing a kiss to Jim’s cheek.

Jim turned a little redder. "I will." He shied from his kiss. "I might be contagious."

John frowned. "Alright."

Jim chuckled. "Are you pouting?"

"...A little. Just means I have to work harder to make you better."

Jim wrapped his arms around his neck with a soft sigh, nuzzling into his neck. "My sweet, perfect, beautiful John."

John held him close. "My wonderful, independent, brilliant, sexy Jim. I love you."

Jim kissed his cheek. "I love you too." He settled beside him. "Now tell me more about Star Trek."


End file.
